Queenly
by sneasels
Summary: Partners by fate, Feathers (Sneasel) and Abilene (Gardevoir) are diametric products of identical circumstance. Their paths have always mirrored one another, yet seeing eye-to-eye is a more laborious task than the risky work they undergo as a newly formed Rescue Team. Their adventurous bond will be tested as their individual pasts reemerge to shape their linked future.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

* * *

Rooted paws and bark-like skin frantically trudged through the blankets of ever-falling snow. Melting, the cold flurry soaked into the crevices of his wooden exterior as his short appendages carried him through the final stretch. The valley he intended to reach opened the path of trees as a polite host holding the doors of branches for him. The moonlight gleamed brightly from the expansive white ground, reflecting a glare to the perspiration exuding from under his snow-matched coat. Hecticly, he pushed on, the final curtain of trees becoming a recent memory of his path. Stable ground was felt beneath his feet, indicating his descent from the icy mountaintops was underway. He panted a sigh of relief without slowing his pace, danger trailing him like a Remoraid to an aging Mantyke.

 _Escape. I have to… Can't fail… Counting on me…_

A rogue and unearthed root struck beneath the snow, snatching at his stumped hooves and caused the young Pokemon to come crashing down with a powerful thud, broken only by the remaining powder that lined the forested floor. He didn't leave the ground or spring into the air as one would expect, but rather, his impact came without being freed from the root's grasp.

 _Stuck! Come on… Come on, Snover… Gotta… Escape… Gotta find…_

As he struggled to retrieve his freedom from the clutches of the earth, he panted and grunted, the young Snover using all of his strength that he hadn't already exhausted. His exasperated trek down from his familiar home left him with little breath and less time. The sound of rustling foliage from the trees to his rear began to fill the pearlescent sky and he halted. His grappling, his efforts, every movement he made, ceased like a doused flame. Snover clenched when he heard it, the padded feet growing nearer and nearer. First the two, then four, then six, the sound of snow-muffled paws crunching into the ground beyond the clearing grew. Petrified by his cowardice and fear, the young Pokemon produced several crystalline tears, silently mourning himself as prey.

 _Oh no… Oh no no no… This is bad, you bet… T-they won't forgive me this time, you bet…_

As gently as it began, the padded footsteps also ceased, causing Snover to swallow his fear momentarily, long enough to check behind his planted body. The white fur that covered his flora skin rustled and shook as he slowly crept his head around, craning to view what lied in the darkness behind. To his comfort, he saw only shrubbery and his own circular footsteps in the snow. In the distance, a dark smoke rose, the beginning of his journey.

"Oh ho… T-t-timber!" a shrewd voice snarled, stuttering and clicking it's seemingly forked tongue in a disgusting jest aimed towards the young grass type, who had lost all feeling to his face due to the verbal hiss. It's origin, indistinguishable amongst the sloped mountain valley.

"Run, lit-t-tle man. You can't hunt a st-t-tump!" a similar vocalized snarl uttered, immediately followed by an array of manic laughter. The adolescent prey shivered as he shook his foot free from the clutches of the earth below.

 _Free! Gotta run… gotta find her…_

Before his stilted hoof could part with the snow, Snover heard a low rumbling swoosh and felt a sharp pinching irritation run along his back. The ice before him turned to bubbling slush in an instant, reflecting a blazing orange inferno. The flamethrower had struck mere inches from the adolescent's timber body and ignited a momentary blaze atop the icy slush, which sizzled and popped and turned to steam all around him.

The hunters, invisible in the starlight, roared with applause as the Snover hobbled away from the conflagration. A midnight breeze swept away the final flames. Leaping and gasping, Snover thrusted each stubby leg out as he dashed away from the attack, the tip of his tail slightly singed. Fearing another bout could occur at any second, he needed to distance himself from his assailants. He had no time to turn and check where the flames had originated.

Three synchronous howls sliced the night sky and grew further and further from Snover as he dashed down the sloped plateau. He panted and gasped for clean air as he descended, running on and on for what felt like hours. A gentle breeze ushered in a whipsy snowfall which trickled onto his fur. The young Ice type enjoyed the cool air one last time before continuing downwards, marching on over thicket and through foliage off any marked path. He carried with him only one object; a sharpened silver heirloom that reflected the moonlight with it's angular majesty.

Behind the adolescent Pokemon, several kilometers upwards, smoke grew to match the nebulous spire of Starpeak Mountain. Beneath that smoke, a bombardment of fiery rage engulfed the only home Snover had ever known. Despite the loss, the shivering young Pokemon wasn't running away to save himself; he was running to save everyone.


	2. Crippled Liaison

I

 **Crippled Liaison**

* * *

A fine layer of silt and dust covered everything within view. The darkness crept forward, extending it's lengthy fingers into the eyes of anyone who dared tread this deep into the earth. Water dripped continuously at the pace of a steady heartbeat, keeping the cavernous aura alive. A puddle formed, undisturbed and still. A perfect reflecting pool if natural light could make the treacherous journey below ground.

As if to test the still water's promise, a warmth filled the bitter grotto. A lovely pink aura creepingly fought back the grasp of darkness, growing more luminous with each passing second. The radiance reflected off of the diamond encrusted eyes of a Sableye, who scattered deeper into the cave at the sight of three silhouettes approaching.

"Are… are you sure this is the way?" asked the smallest figure meekly. It was an ungendered voice that was spoken softly, but who's echo bellowed throughout the cavern, reverberating off of every stalactite and rock face.

The medium-sized silhouette knelt, feeling the ground with a darkened undistinguished appendage. A crass but feminine voice whispered in a tone that could easily be mistaken for an intended bellow.

"Yeah, just as sure as I was 40 seconds ago, Plusle. I'm still tracking those thugs, ya' know."

The brilliant gleam infected the still water, just inches from the medium figure's genuflect, revealing a sight she had not expected from this expedition; herself. A Sneasel, petite in frame with red eyes that scorched full of passion. A rustic satchel hung from her shoulder, resting on the dusted sediment as she knelt. Perhaps the most unique quality about the bipedal Pokemon were the adornments worn over her left ear. Ornamentally, she wore three faded feathers, one blue, one yellow, one red. The faux feathers concealed her true one red Sneasel feather which remained obstructed behind the trimming of assorted fakes. Her ruby eyes were entangled in their reflection mere moments before retreating to a leer of intense displeasure. A single droplet plummeted from above, striking the mirrored puddle and rippled the image of the young Dark type. The Sneasel struck at her duo, launching the soiled water with her filed claws.

"You shall reunite with your companion soon, Plusle." A verbal silk wrapped around the craggy interior of the illuminated space. The source of the dazzling gleam and the harp-like voice was the largest in stature of the three figures. As the pale light touched the walls around them, she stepped into view. She moved with a majesty and grace of only a refined creature, a Gardevoir, to be sure. She was rarely seen without her dresslike pattern flowing behind her even in these few seconds of still air deep under the surface. Utilizing her cognitive psychic abilities, she was able to produce the soft glow that lit their path with ease. She drifted beyond the small electric Pokemon and stood over her Sneasel companion.

"Feathers, shall we continue?" asked the Gardevoir warmly. She touched the knelt Sneasel's shoulder cautiously, as if to comfort her with apprehension. Feathers ignored her.

"Not far now. Abi, would you shut that dang light off? I can see in the dark just fine ya' know?" She shook off the Gardevoir's rested mitt and stood. At her full height she was a few inches below three feet, and roughly two and a half feet underneath the Gardevoir's gaze.

Tilting her head in dismay as the trio began trudging on once again, the Gardevoir responded. "Yes, but that is not a skill the rest of this party possesses." Scampering behind the two, Plusle shuttered.

"Y-yeah! I can't see in the dark and I really wouldn't wanna get lost in here, M-miss Feathers." His static charged cheeks sparked up in an almost crying-like action, which caught the attention of the Gardevoir, who once again spoke softly to the tailgating youngster.

"There's no cause for upset, Plusle. I won't let such a thing befall you." Her words as regal as her appearance, she lifted the frightened Pokemon to her shoulders and thoughtfully allowed him to grapple there, resting his legs as they trailed closely behind Sneasel.

"T-thank you, Miss Abilene!" sniffled Plusle. The pair were suddenly halted by a sharp shushing and, looking towards Feathers, Abilene could tell trouble was beginning to brew. Feathers held her body as still as the stagnant rocks which formed the walls surrounding the trio, one claw was raised at roughly her eye level to signal Abilene, her Gardevoir, to halt and silence herself.

"Abilene. Kill the light." the Sneasel whispered, her lips barely cracking apart to form words.

"But Feathers, Plusle and I…"

"Abilene you need to trust me right now and turn off the light." Silence grew to plaster it's way into their ears. Occasionally a drop of water would strike a puddle in the humid chamber. Before long and before Sneasel had so much as moved a muscle, a damp slithering pushed aside some soil up ahead. "The light. Now!"

Plusle whimpered and chimed in as the sound of sedimentary movement along the route ahead grew louder. "It's okay, Miss Abilene. We better do what Miss Feathers says! I'll be brave."

Slowly, Feather's head turned until she shot a gaze directly through the Gardevoir. Her paw hadn't dropped from it's place and her body remained still as Abilene sighed affirmatively. She placed a firm hold on Plusle and closed her eyes. The illuminated cavern returned once again to it's natural foreboding state of shadowed murkiness. The lack of sight amplified the audio as what seemed like the sound of flesh being dragged through mud and gravel suddenly permeated throughout. With no visual confirmation from the Sneasel, Abilene could only trust in her partner as she risked her and the young Plusle's safety.

Irrefutably, Feathers trusted in herself. A partial dark type, she was able to visualize her surroundings with little effort in darkened environments. Relying on the shroud of darkness to conceal herself, she dropped to the ground in a kneeling position as a biped would if preparing to dash forward at great speed. Once more, the sound of an artificial raindrop propelling into the pool of shallow water echoed off the jagged stone innards. At this que, she leapt forward into nothingness.

Abilene knelt in a curtsy fashion and held the juvenile Plusle against her bosom when action crept through the dim room. Oblivious to the events taking place just inches in front of her own nose, the Gardevoir provided sympathy and compassion for the electric creature.

Feathers confidence only grew with each striking blow she landed on her victim. Three tubular beings sloshed around aimlessly thrown off by the sudden lack of light. The snake-like gang of thugs were helplessly thrashing about in an attempt to catch Feathers off guard. They did not. The agile Sneasel lunged off the dusted floor, using the slimy head of her attacker to propel herself upward. Seizing at a jagged outcropping of rock above the room, she hung for a mere moment observing her targets with scrutinizing detail in a flash of time.

"Don't worry, young one. How brave you must be to truly go to these lengths to find your comrade." Abilene attempted to reassure her youthful protectorate through the sound of struck bodies, splashing water and an obvious struggle no more than twelve feet from the pair. Plusle was shaking, nervous and unsure, his cheeks began sparking to life. This brought about the issue of a yellow incandescent light which forfeited their previously undisclosed location to the attackers, who revealed themselves in this shining glare.

From above, Feathers watched the crackling light burn through the darkness, and the trio of snake Pokemon lunge for it. "Abi, watch yourself!" Without thinking, the Sneasel performed an emergency aerial attack, striking the thugs with an Icicle Crash that was executed near flawlessly. The yellow gem on Feathers gently furred head flashed with bright gleam as the ice formed, momentarily revealing herself and her elevated position. This new blaze attracted the attention of two attackers, who were unprepared for the steady stream of freshly spawned ice that struck them down. "Abi the light! Its-" before she could finish her warning, Feathers was pummeled to the grungy mud-lined ground by a thick weight of purple ooze, a Sludge Bomb that left her dizzy and in agony.

Viewing the situation as if it were a slideshow, with an occasional glimpse every few seconds due to the unpredictable sparking of Plusle's tears, Abilene was unable to comprehend the situation in its entirety. She saw the Sneasel suspended in midair for a brief moment, followed by the silhouettes of three large serpent creatures, one of which was growing closer with each flash of electricity. Without a word and in a serene panic, the Gardevoir closed her eyes and once again from her mind allowed the chasm to be filled with a luminous gleam.

Wiping away sizzling tears and fluid from her eyes, Feathers now laid on her back, distraught and befouled by the toxic sludge. When the pale light began to fill her vision once again, she considered it a disgraceful besting by these unseen foes and it angered her, causing her to simmer both outside and in. Her dazzling ruby eyes fixed on her attacker as he hovered over his prey.

"Sss-eviper." a slimy voice said, slithering into Feather's ears from behind the towering figure, which craned it's hose-like neck around to face the source. "It-sss the other kid. Tha' one from the fore-ssst."

Plusle had stopped his static wailing when the light returned. Instead, he was paralyzed with fear as the lumbering Ekans slithered across the muddy surface to him. Deepening himself in Abilene's smooth arms, he hid his head from the snake.

"Don't come near him!" Abilene pleaded. "He is but a child!"

"Hand him over!" The Ekans struck at Gardevoir with his tail, whipping at her attenuated legs. She retreated, still in a sitting fetal position she backed as far as she could to avoid being struck by the attacks.

While her companions drew the heat off of Sneasel, she regained her comprehension. A bubbling aura felt as though it was burning through her. Her head fell to the side, her eyes glaring open to spy the third of the crew, a smaller, more feeble Ekans, rummaging through her satchel that she had left behind during the brawl. Remaining on the ground, submerged partially in a thick goop of mud, Feathers summoned her strength to reach for the thief. As she exasperatedly stretched for the smallest of the group, the towering Seviper slammed his behemoth tail down on her thin arm, stopping the reach. Sneasel grunted and shot an intense glare through the Seviper's reptilian eyes. The adversaries exchanged this look of turmoil for several moments as the water from the cavernous roof dripped onto Feather's chest repeatedly.

Backed into a wall of stalactites and sharpened earth, Abilene cradled the young Plusle against her red breast fin. The Gardevoir's fists were clenching and she tightened her muscles. A boiling rush of heat flew through her mind and she could feel it's tingle down in every fingertip. "You will not harm him!" She bellowed, suddenly rising, suspended just fractions of an inch above the ground. She floated weightless, her white flowing body waved as a flag in the wind and her eyes, whites and pupils alike, shone with a scintillating pure fire.

One arm pinned, Feathers had not yet given up hope. Her icy body was being eaten by the poison that seeped into her, leading to her easy overpower by the Seviper, who chortled and gloated over her. As Abilene's graceful demeanor fled and she caused her ruckus with the Ekans in defense of Plusle, Seviper quit his bellowed laughter and twisted his sickening head towards the events. Feathers saw this as her opportunity and callously flung her free claws into the Seviper's rigid body. He shrieked and flung himself flailing directly into his cohort, who was knocked away from the Sneasel's belongings. As Feathers staggered to stand, she dug her feet into the soil, planting herself in a readied offense while the Seviper and his cohorts' heads spun in a dizzy disarray. Feathers had pushed them to their limits, and she herself was struggling with the inner urge to give in and blackout.

In the confusion, Plusle freed himself from Abilene's protective embrace and scampered out of vision, immersed into the black throat of the cavern. As weightless as his attacker, the Ekans was forcibly levitated into the surreal air. A gentle pink illumination perforated the damp air surrounding him. "H-hey! W-woah!" Without so much as a sound, Abilene fiercely shot her arm upwards and the Ekans followed, slicing through the air like a knife until he found himself a dizzied mess atop his comrades, who didn't appreciate his impactful landing. The three serpents fell limp simultaneously, slipping away from consciousness.

Panting sharp breathes, Feathers shot her gaze towards Abilene, the ferocity remaining in her gaze. Abilene gently fluttered down from her elevation, the flowing gown she wore formed into a standstill drape. She opened her eyes softly and was alarmed by the Sneasel's condition, let alone the savagery in her countenance. Feathers squinted towards her partner, before her eyes shot open with a shriek; "The kid!" Abilene's fragile heart shattered in dismay as Feathers shot around 180 degrees and began to dart down the pitch-black corridor. Her efforts were immediately without triumph, as she shrieked again, this time a sharp dagger of a sound as she clutched her side and crashed into the ground, moaning gently with each exhale.

Within seconds, the Gardevoir was by her wounded side kneeling fluidly. "Feathers, dear, you've been poisoned." She extended her smooth arm towards her companion, placing her hand-like paws on the ice-type's generally frozen head. Sneasels had a body temperature of below freezing, which made feeling one's body an arduous task. An illness was easy to identify in them, as their temperature will begin to feel more comfortable to the untrained hand. Feathers' wincing forehead felt as warm as Abilene's loving gesture, indicating an immediate danger to her.

Out of stubborn disposition, the feathered Sneasel swatted Abilene's hand, refusing to be caressed. "I'm fine. Get the kid." Feathers coughed and wheezed in her nasally accent, struggling to find the words she felt fit the situation.

Ignoring her headstrong partner, the Gardevoir reached to cradle Feathers in her arms, presumably to bring her to safety. "I'll find him momentarily, but you need my help."

"The heck I do!" She must've used all the remaining energy she had just to force Abilene's hands away like that. She rasped and choked on her words. "You never listen… If you hadn't lit up the cave, I wouldn't be so banged up." She was obstinate and irate, full of as much bad blood as poison. This indignant position took her Gardevoir off guard, as she nearly stumbled back after being pushed.

"Plusle was frightened. Had I not illuminated the cave, his sparks surely would have." Her voice faltered from it's typical posh and ladylike tone. Abilene was refined, of a high class. She only ever fell from this status in two circumstances; when a child is in danger, or when Feathers was being a pest. The current situation called for both.

"The kid got scared! So what? That's what kids do!" Feathers had unanimously decided that arguing her stance was a worthy use for her remaining strength. She couldn't keep it up for long, she was fading fast. Her enhanced night-vision began failing her as blackness crept forth from the far end of the room. "Kids and cowards," ,she coughed, struggling to breathe through her harsh words.

"You insufferable creature!" Abilene rose swiftly, her flowing gown unfurling like a dropped banner. "If you are referring to the Shoreline Grotto incident, I'll hear no more of your insults!" The Gardevoir took a deep, dignified breathe and collected herself.

"Shoreline Grotto, the Dunsparce Job, Mia's Job…" Feathers clawed and dragged herself through the soil towards her fallen satchel. It hung open slightly from the curious Ekans' inspections. "Take your pick…"

Abilene's jaw flew open, her heart unable to keep up with the cruelty of Sneasel's slander. She eyed the pouch that Feathers scuffled towards. Revealing a single dainty leg from under her elegant torso, the flustered Gardevoir kicked at the satchel. The brown shoulder bag hopped up and skipped a few feet before landing on Sneasel's dug-in paw. To Abilene's astonishment, the unsecured pouch flung an assortment of glittering gemstones into the dust-touched air of the damp cavern. Glancing weakly towards the stones that shone under Abilene's luminous power, the Sneasel let her head slump down and her feathered tail twitched in embarrassment before falling limp as well.

"Aren't we one to judge another's actions?" Abilene's rhythmic voice taunted her Sneasel companion. "Thievery matches cowardice."

Silence creeped in between the two, and for a moment Abilene considered that Feathers had fainted and succumbed to her injuries. The intense moment was serenaded by the dripping water which acted as a metronome to count the beats of each second where nothing was said and all was still.

"Go home, princess." Feathers finally spoke through the dirt that blew out from under her mouth as she spoke. "Royalty should stay outta this."

"I am not royalty."

"You're right. You were afraid of that too."

The silence returned. Nothing was said to refute or argue after that point as tensions were left to sit high above the submerged cavern. Feathers treated her wounds with pecha oil from her bag, which helped to restore her from her poison. She gathered up the assortment of gems, reds, blues, greens, all were stuffed back into their cluttered space in her satchel. Abilene didn't dare speak. The light in the cave was dimmer now than it had been. She hadn't been able to concentrate on maintaining the level of visibility. She feared greatly for Plusle's safety, but dared not venture ahead without Feathers. As much as she hated to admit it, the Gardevoir wasn't much in the way of a talented combatant. She was alerted to an incoming sound when she noticed Feathers' ear shoot up and tail twitch. Normally at this point, her Sneasel would be sharing the details of the approaching Pokemon, how far they were, estimated species, how many there were. She remained as silent and still as the air around the pair.

To Abilene's consolation, two meager creatures appeared from the black curtains at the edge of the chamber. "Feathers! Abilene! I found him! I found Minun!" It was their young contractor himself, Plusle. In the heat of battle, the adolescent heard his friend's cry deeper in the cave and rushed to his aid whilst the pair battled on his behalf. Minun was in identical stature to Plusle, with blue accents being his distinguishing trait in the murky pink light. The Gardevoir lowered her head and exhaled softly, removing herself mentally from Feather's hostile company. She said nothing, but knelt to better rest at the small mice-like creatures' heights.

Feathers paid no attention to them, to anyone but herself, as she treated her injuries. With a light tumble and a firm hop, Plusle was on top of a rock that acted as a stage for the Pokemon. "Minun! These are them! The ones I told you about! This is Abilene and that's Feathers!" The giddy young creature pointed with his whole paw towards the two when he assigned their names to his newly rescued friend. Feathers turned her entire body away. "They're the greatest rescue team in the whole village! No no no, in the whole world!"

A warm blush of modesty filled Abilene's cheeks and it only grew when Minun spoke. "Wow. A real life rescue team came to help me! What's your team called?" In his excitement, the youth forgot to reassure them that he was okay or even thank them. Abilene's eyes shot open and her regal head listed gently to the side. Feathers' scoff bounced off the earthy interior in an echo that shook the Gardevoir to her core.

They had no name. They couldn't mutually decide on any moniker that summed them up, so the unlikely pair elected to go without one. It caused for a lot of confusion and made it a hassle to explain. Feathers thought it was unimportant to have a title, that their actions would speak for them, but Abilene found it improper to not have some form of name, especially now when asked to provide one.

"Queenly", the word cascaded from the Gardevoir's lips like a gentle fountain of crystal water. "We are Team Queenly."


	3. Red Letter Day

II

 **Red Letter Day**

* * *

Parting the vast field of ripe cherry flowers was a single dirt path that connected Scarlet Borough to the rest of the world. An expanse of red gusting petals gave the valley a fiery appearance that blazed brightly in the Autumn wind. The sound of Combee wings whisked through the air, cutting and slashing to keep their honeycombed bodies afloat just inches above the highest reaching flowers. In this time of evening it was difficult to distinguish where the sunset horizon began. Uniquely, the meadow graced it's visitors with the citrusy aroma of the aspear berries that grew from the tallest blood-leaved trees.

In the center of this crimson flora ocean sat the serene village of Scarlet Borough. Home to just under 100 Pokemon, Scarlet Borough housed Pokemon from all walks of life. Most residents saw no purpose in leaving the valley, as their property was prime and peaceful, teeming with promise and never falling short of it's gifts. The inhabitants of this rural town remained unsanctioned by the larger provinces and kingdoms that dotted the land and rarely accepted newcomers to bask in their seemingly limitless resources. Among these outsiders were Abilene and Feathers.

With eyes that rivalled the vivid brilliance of the flowers surrounding them, Feathers walked along the narrow dirt road quietly enough to hear the gentle hum of the Combee's wings. She kept her gaze focused on the dirt in front of each step and her mind anywhere except at ease. Abilene kept her distance from the Sneasel, taking delicate steps roughly 4 paces behind her. The evening gust was causing her dress-like flaps to nestle themselves against her thin legs. She watched with sorrowful countenance as Feather's kicked at rocks with her dreery steps.

Since departing the dungeon where Plusle's job dragged them, the pair had parted ways with the two electric critters after seeing them safely returned to their homes in a nearby forest village. Feathers collected the debt from the Minun's family and very solemnly refused their hospitable invitation for supper. Abilene had wished to stay and enjoy the company, but wasn't disappointed by the Sneasel's rash decision. She had, of course, known Feather's decision before it was ever so much as an offer. She had not spoken directly with her companion since the harsh words exchanged between them and a knot was beginning to form in Abilene's throat as the unspoken tension lingered in her mind.

"Feathers." Abilene's rhythmic tone forced Sneasel's ears to dart up several feet in front the Gardevoir. "Had you been in my position…" She struggled to find her next defensive words for a moment. The pair had reached the polished cedar arch that served as the entryway to the village.

"If I was in your position?" Feathers slowed her calculated steps before dragging her nimble body to a halt. She didn't face Abilene when she spoke up. "It's hard, ya know, putting myself in your position." The Sneasel twisted her head to view Abilene in her peripheral vision. Her nasally voice hacked at the air. "We're too different for that."

A gust of wind delivered Feathers' confident words directly to the apprehensive Gardevoir, who took a deep breath to calm herself. "We're far more similar than you care to admit."

This seemed to eat at Feathers, who finally turned her whole body to adamantly protest. "Alright, fine, you wanna know what I'd've done?" Her freckled nose twitched. "I'd've had no trouble at all doin' what I told you to do! Heck, the whole bone I have to pick with you is because you didn't put yourself in my position long enough to realize I was right! And because of your mishap, I had to take the brunt of it."

Abilene remained non-confrontational, distancing herself from Feathers' verbal blows while she constructed her response. "You believe your actions and commands to be what was right. I simply disagreed. Your recklessness could have endangered the child. I did what I thought was right."

"What you thought was the 'right thing to do' poisoned me and beat me into the dirt. You think I wasn't fighting those thugs to protect the kid in the first place?" Feathers' voice grew shrill and climbed in decibels, as it often did when she was worked up.

The Gardevoir shook her head. "It's impossible to tell. You never communicate your intentions."

Feathers' snout twitched again, followed by her ears flattening softly representing a shift in her demeanor. "Well. If ya woulda paid attention, ya woulda realized I was trying to protect you too."

The sky had shifted as well throughout their homecoming. In the meadowed evening light the red sea of aspear flowers grew darker in hue to a cascade of maroon. The Combee had all returned to their hive walls, leaving the only sound beyond the pair's bickering to be the natural rustling of leaves and petals in the cool nightly breeze.

Looming over the partners came a sudden darkness, a shadow casted by an approached figure, who's back turned to the sunset forced his silhouette across the land. His low grumble captured their attention, spinning Feathers' short person around in the blink of an eye. Both her and Abilene squinted, battling with the sun's diminishing light for a view of the figure. As their vision adjusted, they both quickly recognized the figure paired with the low guttural sigh he produced.

"Have you come to my village just to bark at each other?" A frumpy, elderly voice rumbled slowly to them. Each word sounded as if it had to fight it's way out of his ancient lips.

Abilene frowned, sulking slowly as her gaze fixed on the ground in disappointment. "No, Mayor Chesnaught."

Feathers stayed silent, but met the elder's eyes with her own. Chesnaught was the original founder of Scarlet Borough. An ornery fellow in his heyday, he was now confined mostly to his thoughts and to servicing the folks who built their lives on his land. Although she never spoke of it, Feathers admired him both as a leader and a hospitable host for her and her Gardevoir friend, both of which were outsiders.

Chesnaught groaned, exhaling a deep breathe through a shaggy white beard. "I'm taking a huge risk keeping you here, Abilene. I don't expect you to be the one to ruin the peace."

It was then that the Gardevoir realized that a thinly ranked crowd had begun to form, masked by the sunset. She was unaware if the townsfolk had arrived prior to Chesnaught and she blushed at the thought of them overhearing her spat with the Sneasel. Feathers, on the other hand, was fully aware of their presence since before the mayor's interruption. She simply didn't care.

"Yes, sir. I'm deeply sorry. I can assure you that it won't happen again." Abilene's harp-like voice plucked a sorrowful tune as the crowd began to dissipate, mumbling amongst themselves. Chesnaught turned his iron gaze to the impetuous Sneasel.

"And you, Dark-type?" He addressed Feathers by her typing, switching between ice or dark. It was a pattern of behavior she had noticed in the aged mayor that she was less than fond of. Had it been a Pokemon that Feathers respected less, she would let her distaste be known. Instead, she held her tongue for the sake of not offending the noble man.

"I'll try, sir" she groaned, accepting this as a form of defeat in verbal combat.

This almost drew a chuckle from the stoic mayor. "Hmph. I suppose that's as much as I could ask out of you, Sneasel." He paused, drawing out a long breath to fuel his next sentence. "You know, if you both stopped bickering over your black and white differences, you'd realize the strength in your grey similarities."

This hit Feathers harder than any attack. She often let it slip her mind just how similar she and Abilene were. Forged under the same tempered past, their vastly different choices led both of them here. She just solemnly responded with an understanding nod.

Chesnaught waved them off with a soulful grunt. The unlikely pair resumed their silence as they kicked up the dirt streets on their walk to the edge of town. On their trek they passed many friendly faces whom Abilene had grown very fond of. Townsfolk always smiled and gave courtesy to the Gardevoir, and despite her lack of social compliance, to the Sneasel as well. Abilene broke from their path only momentarily to greet her familiars, particularly a Vaporeon who's damp scaly skin glistened under the light of the fading sun. Her name was Mia. She was accompanied by one other neighborly face; a levitating Klink named Cosine, who had earned his name while becoming celebrated for his skills in calculations and statistical analysis. Abilene's social excitement quickly faded when she noticed Feathers' pace quicken. Cutting her formalities short, she once again trailed the Sneasel homeward in silence.

* * *

Dodging conversations as though they were a plague, Feathers arrived promptly at the foot of her and Abilene's abode. An igloo-esque structure made of refined blocks of limestone, the house was spacious in it's main quarters which featured a small unused area for a fire to be lit. Surrounding the bramble and firewood were two benches crafted of cheri wood and topped with woven Mareep wool. Branching off of this structure and separated only by dangling cloth curtains were two more domed rooms, one for each resident.

As Sneasel's claws rattled against the wooden door panel, Abilene halted her with a melodic sigh. "Feathers… We mustn't enter our home while still harboring ill-will towards one another."

The Sneasel scoffed, but the tone was different, unlike the disparaging grunt she had exhaled earlier. This sound was softer, if only by a little, perhaps undetectable to most, but not to Abilene. "Abi, if ya never let me in the house until I'm done being sour towards you, I'd be sleeping outside every night."

This actually drew something of a chuckle from the regal Gardevoir, who in turn responded "Perhaps you should invest in a shell; like a Shuckle."

"Yeah, maybe I could get some privacy in there." Feathers grinned, the tip of her razor white fang peaked from her upper lip. "Ah, who'm I kiddin'? Wouldn't be long before you'd have an arm and a leg in there too." The pair both smiled at one another, once again melting away their differences of opinion to be discussed at a later time. Abilene motioned towards the door, gliding her hand to the thin wooden hatch.

"Shall we enter our shell, little Shuckle?" She followed her words with a warm smile and a half suppressed laugh.

Feathers would hardly understand the situation she didn't realize she was in. Emotionally, she was vulnerable. It was a rare feeling for her, but she only allowed her guard to be dropped when her and Abilene were clearly safe and in unison. An even rarer sight was the gentle pink streaks that glowed softly under her eyes. As an Ice-type with an internal temperature of roughly 0 degrees, it took a lot to cause a Sneasel to visibly blush. "Ah, geez…" she'd say, turning from the Gardevoir and gently shoving the door open.

An eerie shock would befall the pair as they entered their home. The cut-stone floor was a mess of wet foliage. The home was in a disaster-struck condition unlike they had left it. Abilene gasped, realizing the stew she had prepared that morning for their supper had been eaten. "An intruder?" She shrieked through her clasped hands that covered her mouth.

"No doubt." Feathers had already begun scanning the room for tracks or distinguishable evidence of any kind.

Stepping in a chilled puddle, Abilene lifted her flowing gown-like torso to prevent the spread of the water. She always watched for opportunities such as these to pick up on the Sneasel's expert tracking skills. "Perhaps a Water-type?"

Feathers dipped her paw into the shallow pool. "No. The water is contained to these few areas. Like a spill, or something melted." She bit her lip in curiosity. As she knelt and the surface stilled from it's rippling momentum, she could see her own glittering crimson eyes reflecting disdain back to her. She held this intense observance for a moment's time. Remaining sunlight trickled into the valley from behind the jagged peaks of the nearing mountain range. The last light of the autumnal evening carved around the tallest mountain which hid the sun and delivered it's luminosity to power the Sneasel's reflected countenance. In contempt, she scornfully rose, ignoring her duplicate.

"The door didn't appear damaged. How would the intruder have entered?" Abilene could see the remorse forming in her Sneasel partner's expression. Gardevoir placed a hand wearily on her chilly shoulder. Feathers didn't budge.

"Probably from that useless hole we have in our roof! Didn't anybody bother to finish this lousy house anyway?"

Abilene blinked. "I've tried to explain to you the necessity of the chimney before."

"Call it whatever fancy name ya'd like, it's a weakness in our defenses." Sneasel scoffed.

The Gardevoir blinked several times. "What do you suggest we are defending our home from?"

Feathers spun and cocked her head to look the Gardevoir in her eyes. "From intruders, apparently!"

As if to purposefully respond, a thudding crash was heard by both parties. Abilene covered her mouth once again aghast whilst Feathers' ears perked up; both Pokemon turned to face the origin. The hollow wallop was clearly heard coming from Feathers' quarters. At the prospect of a stranger rummaging through her private belongings, she gnarled her teeth and let out a savage snarl. Honing, her claws let off a pure pearlescent white gleam. Sneasel took a quickened pace towards the curtain, gaining momentum with each bound. Abilene let loose a clamor as Feathers flung open the curtain to reveal the perpetrator had been concealing himself. In the newfound darkness of post-sunset, Abilene could see only the blur of their intruder as he was flung into the main chamber hollering, the weight of his body crashing down on the flimsy benches and shattering them under the power of Feathers' throw.

Sneasel's Hone Claws illuminated her face with the move's powerful shine as she pounced back from her quarters. "Creep!" she bellowed, landing her body's weight vehemently on the stout shadowy figure. As she lifted her radiant claws to threaten the thief, their light shone brightly enough to reveal his identity to the onlooking Gardevoir, who's regal eyes could barely force themselves to open. A portly youth with a panic-stricken expression squirmed for freedom beneath Feathers' mass. She didn't recognize him as a citizen of their village, but knew his species to be Snover.

The Snover pleaded. "Agh! P-please, M-miss Feathers! Please don't hurt me!"

Feathers took several sharp breaths, her entire body swaying with her expiration before hollering again. "How do you know my name?! How did you find me?!"

Abilene watched in dismay before shattering the commotion with her melodic voice. "Feathers enough! He's only a child!" Despite this, Sneasel made no immediate efforts to ease up.

The Snover gulped and fumbled through his thoughts, searching to remove himself from this hostile situation. "Miss Feathers! I-I'm from… I-uh… Oh goodness… F-Froslass!"

The color left Feather's face in the moonlit night and her composure changed as though she had flatlined. Her grip on the Snover's ruffled fur loosened and her knees felt weak. "How… how did you know that name.."

Snover kicked his dangling feet in panic. "Oh please Miss Feathers let me go! I-I'll be good, you bet!"

The shocked Sneasel's profile displayed an empty countenance with searching eyes. She scanned the room as though it were caving in. From her perspective, all discernible sound became a blur, as though she were underwater. She couldn't hear Abilene calling to her as her clawed grip loosened on the Snover in her dazed state, lost in a flurry of thought.

A merciful pink vapor caught the young intruder before he slipped free of the distracted Sneasel's offensive hold. The Gardevoir lowered him, allowing Snover to gain his footing and stand. Courageously, he shook off his fear and approached the shell-shocked Ice-type, who remained standing on the shattered bench. Her breath grew to a choppy blizzard as the room spun around her, all triggered by that one word; that one name.

An empath, Abilene could sense the discomfort and stupor her partner was in, looking as though she would faint. "Froslass? Feathers? I don't recall you making me familiar with anyone of that name?" After setting Snover down carefully, the lavender light faded back to the blackness of moonlight.

The stumpy child tilted his fur covered head and examined Abilene curiously before replying. "She's Miss Feathers' friend, you bet. From back home." He turned once more, fixing his gaze on the Sneasel. She was more visibly shaken than Gardevoir had ever remembered witnessing. Her regal figure flowed across the room silently to comfort her, all concern for their intruder lifting from her melancholy mind. Snover apprehensively approached Feathers more closely, explaining. "And she's in trouble."

This news seemed to snap Feathers out of her disillusioned trance and her fiery eyes darted to meet with his. Abilene's maw remained concealed behind a clasped hand. She gasped in awe. "Feathers. This Froslass… she's from... before." The stubborn Sneasel had kept her past locked tightly behind a irately forged lock from everyone. Her Gardevoir was no exception to this rule. Whenever Abilene had made remarks or pressed her partner for information regarding her origins, she always sensed a great inferno within the Sneasel's heart. Her empathetic potential alerted her to sorrows that even Feathers herself had chosen to overlook.

The Sneasel was in a cavernous affliction. All eyes focused on her as her velvety ears sagged, timidly pushing her adorning feathers out of place. Despite the attention, Feathers made no attempt to speak or share her thoughts, instead drilling holes in the floor with her laser-like stare.

Reaching out with her emotions to connect with the pain her Sneasel felt, Abilene hit a spiritual roadblock when she sensed an even deeper depression. Only it wasn't residing in the heart of her Sneasel, but in the mind of their intruder. "I sense great loss in your heart, young Snover."

A single icy tear fell like a limpid raindrop from the shaggy face of the youth. His eyes told their tale of sorrow and of recent heartbreak. Abilene sensed the growth in pain as she turned her attention to Feathers. Her normally overweening manner was melted away as she too could feel the personal loss Snover's emotional appearance described. The Gardevoir may have been left out of the loop, but she had a clear notion that the two Ice-types had lost something precious. She had been quick to piece together the puzzle that was unravelling before her.

A lone whimper escaped from the Snover, who locked eyes with Sneasel in the darkness of night. Courageously, he stood upright, fixing his sorrowful posture. He unhurriedly drew near to the Sneasel, his barked skin reaching for her filed claws. Her natural reaction was to retract, nearly stumbling back from her elevated position. Snover understood and made no further attempt to touch Feathers. "G-gosh, Miss Feathers… We sure do need you."

Silence. Sneasel's headstrong can-do attitude was but a morsel of a lump in her throat.

"We will be honored to assist you, Snover. What exactly does your quest entail?" Abilene announced, her voice nearly quivering.

This seemed to snap the youth out of his pity. "G-gosh, I'm sure sorry, Ma'am, b-but we need Miss Feathers."

"When you refer to "we", you perhaps mean your Pokemon from home? From Feathers' home?" The Gardevoir tilted her head and blinked twice.

"Y-yes ma-am, you bet! Miss Feathers is the only one who can save us. She's a real hero, you bet!"

"Enough!" Feather's finally broke her vow of silence with a shrill roar. Her red eyes glistened and reflected the moonlight in soulful tears. She had become hysterical, her eyes darting to every shadowed corner of their small hut. Abilene tried fruitlessly to calm her. "It's all lies! Everything they told you, Snover! I am not a hero! And I am NOT ready!" She was panicked, breathing sporadically and appeared to be breaking down emotionally. "You could've lead them here!"

Abilene's leg shook nervously while approaching her Sneasel. She reached her thin arm out to comfort her. Darting backwards into the night, Feathers looked tearfully at her companion. She tried to mumble something apologetic to her Gardevoir, but failed to deliver in her pronunciation. Abilene pleaded "Feathers, please…"

Once more, through quivering lips, Sneasel let loose a distressed moan. "I'm sorry." She met Snover's pleading eyes and felt the weight of countless lives fall on her shoulders. She uncomfortably inched away from the pair, her sharpened eyes darting between the two as if tying the Pokemon in a visible knot.

Snover sniffed loudly and reached into a small knapsack that laid at his feet. It had been thrown from his grasp during the attack earlier. "M-miss Feathers, I brought something with me from home. F-froslass said it'd give you the strength to come home, you bet." He carefully unfolded the cloth that loosely wrapped an item of mystery. Abilene took several petite steps to peer over Snover's whispy shoulder to view the object he clutched. It was as smooth and glossy as fresh obsidian. It appeared at first to be some form of primitive weapon with it's curved body and jagged end, but it was too small to be worthwhile. Snover held out his paw to Feathers once more, this time gripping the foreign object. It's exotic design was held up to her in the dusky night.

With her back to the front door, Feathers anxiously allowed him near to perceive what he offered. The forest of his paw opened up to her, the item glaring back into her. The ornate carving on the roof of the midnight gloss depicted a gentle sunrise and an ancient windborne bird Pokemon. Feathers gasped, nearly choking on her own exasperation. Without so much as turning, she lifted and slammed her foot backwards into the wooden panel, flinging the hatch wide open. The artifact had sent her shock into a new, unexpected realm. "Keep that thing away from me!" The Sneasel hoisted her hand sewn satchel from the doorway and threw it over her elfin shoulder, she twisted and took one bound out of her home, fleeing from her fear and past demons.

"Feathers!" Abilene beseeched "don't go! I can help you! Whatever your burden, I will help you bear it!"

The Sneasel halted at the sound of the Gardevoir's melodic begging. She gripped the strap to her bag tightly and her head sunk, eyes digging into the grass between her clawed toes. Her ears were flattened and she tilted her head in Abilene's direction. To Gardevoir's utter dismay, there were tears in her companion's eyes, indicating the severe gravity of the situation she was yet to understand. The Sneasel's salted wavering eyes were a virgin sight to the Gardevoir.

"Not this time, Abi." Feathers uttered. Her gaze didn't transfer to the Snover, but her attention did. Her eyes shut forcefully. "I can never return home. Never." As a single icy bead left her sealed eyes, Sneasel felt a warm, calming aura brush away the tear. It only broke through to mortify her further to see Abilene reaching out to her from inside. The familiar pastelle light emitting from her hand was the last sight Feathers took in before she bolted away, her vision blurred from her tears. She ran to save herself.

"Gosh, i-is she gonna come back?" Snover's arms dropped to his frosted sides and he sulked. "Everyone's depending on her, you bet."

"She's noble underneath the ruffian act." Gardevoir let her voice pluck away at syllables she was unsure of. "She will return." The two simply stood in the gloomy night and sifted through their own perceptions.

"I'm s-sure sorry, Miss. I didn't mean to cause no trouble. Honest." Snover's stumped feet shuffled awkwardly as his vision trailed the floor. "B-but, I've never known Miss Feathers to be friends with a Gardevoir. Who are you, miss?"

Cordially, Abilene knelt, evening her height with the youngster. Her sorrowful expression became hidden behind sheets of feigned delight. "Humbly, I am Feathers' partner. I'm called Abilene."


	4. Royal Affairs

III

 **Royal Affairs**

* * *

 **Long Ago…**

Opulent mortar halls lined with swaying tapestries echoed the fanfare and blaring horns played to announce the arrival of each member of the Royal Familial Council. As each hierarch paraded their wealth down the sumptuously woven ruby carpet, a Granbull guard to both sides would raise their javelins in accordance with regal tradition. Blazing torches danced, their plasmatic light draping an orange hue over the stoic countenance of each passing lord and lordess. The sun's gaze leered perfectly through the stained glass windows, adorned with depictions of Diance, the Giver of Prosper, drifting carelessly through vast fields of vivid blossoms.

A single stature, omitting the Granbull Guards, stood idle in the spacious corridor. She stood with a dignified poise alike the regals who passed. With tearful eyes she watched the last gleams of light set beyond the snow-tipped mountaintops. Radiant pinks and cherry reds shown through the transparent mural to illuminate the Gardevoir's longing stare. Within seconds, the sun's intense luminosity had faded and the depictions of vibrant meadows and ever-stretching horizons became distant from her mind yet again.

"Princess?" A familiar voice threw her from her daydream. Startled, she shivered and turned to face the source. The voice was from one of the many near-identical Gothorita that serviced the esteemed brick walls of the royal palace. "The council is meeting. The king has ordered your presence." The maid shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of a dozen sentries. The Gardevoir returned a bemused expression, prompting the Gothorita to nonchalantly drop her high-toned charade and whisper in a friendlier tone. "Abilene, they're choosing a diplomat now! Hurry!"

Like a rejuvenated morning, the Gardevoir lit up the limitless sky of her mind in a feverish joy. "Oh, bless you, dear! Thank you!" She parted her flowing gown as she skipped along full of promise and anticipation. The Granbull passed silent judgement as they genuflected their lances, reflecting an orange glare from their gold-lined edges. Beams of warm light luminesced from the ornate pikes to meet with the perfect sapphires that adorned young Abilene's extravagant necklace. The jewels hung just shy of the red fin that embellished her chest, but even they hailed in comparison to the magnificent warmth of clear rubies that lined the woven silver headdress that crowned her willpower and proclaimed her wealth.

The two fiercest guardians parted from the door without so much as an acknowledgement from the affluent Gardevoir, who ensured each burly watchdog received a thoughtful curtsy and a "thank you, sir". Without respite, Abilene crept through the entryway into a palatial room with marbled floors and quartz pillars towering several stories beyond her head. The quarters housed the Royal Familiar Council, which had begun meeting without Abilene. She was a crucial member, as she was one of the few blood royalty to inhabit the council chambers.

A lone Granbull guard filed behind the timorous Gardevoir. "Presenting milady, Princess Abilene of the Faerielands!" he bellowed gruffly before returning to his prestigious post outward of the council hall, leaving Abilene to fend for herself in the precarious conclave.

All eyes darted to the lavish young Gardevoir, who's exuberant demeanor vanished in a sea of discrediting stares. Despite what the name would suggest, the Royal Familial council was no family, but an amalgamation of influencers within Abilene's kingdom. The Gardevoir's guileless eyes met first with Aromatisse's. A staunchly arrogant aristocrat, Aromatisse's attitude was as foul as her disastrously concocted perfumes. Had her nose been any higher, one would assume she was inhaling the clouds.

Beside the pompous Aromatisse sat a well upholstered Slowking who's tenacity for politics bordered on the uncanny. A tycoon of the land, Slowking weaseled into the palace through the sheer might of his monopoly on berry products. Nearly every berry grown within the Faerielands was owned first and foremost by Slowking.

"Abilene" a commanding voice roared. Taking up the central chair at the council table was a silhouetted figure who stood with her back to a marvelous stained glass mural that depicted the entire world slowly covering itself with vibrant pink lilies and chrysanthemums. The remaining lights of sunset outlined her attenuated figure, giving her a holy appearance of luminosity. "You were not summoned here. I hope you have good reason to interrupt our assembly."

"Yes, mother. I have come to take my seat on the council." Abilene replied, swallowing her disquietude and approaching the table. Her necklace chimed with each step as though it were a metronome counting her steps.

"You pose a conflict of interest to this session, Abilene" her mother remarked. "It is no secret that you wish to influence our decision." Stoic, she rose from her seat, the light behind her was eclipsed by her meticulously adorned crown. This revealed her features, muted with age yet delicate and firm. "You can not let your selfish personal desires to abandon your kingdom dictate choices made to favor it."

"Mother, if I may" Abilene pleaded softly with a wanting voice. "I don't wish to abandon my kingdom. I simply want to know what lies beyond it. I-"

"And in doing so, you wish to toss aside your role in this land." Her mother crossed her arms. Ribbons of transparent silk resembling pastelle nebulas hung from each arm. All other councilors had remained uncharacteristically silent throughout their spat until one rose from her seat.

Light had faded from the grand window, welcoming night throughout the Faerielands. With this darkness stood the council member to her mother's left. She waved her nimble arm and like striking an invisible match, a flame erupted from her wand. The scorching magnificence peeled away a layer of ambiguity to reveal a stern countenance piercing through Abilene. "My Queen, shall I?" A snobby tone brimming with arrogance hacked at the air like the blazing fire that lit it.

"Yes, Madame Ferox" Abilene's mother answered, taking her seat again. Madame Ferox was the haughty court mage of the royals. The pompous Delphox practiced an arcane wisdom that was beyond Abilene's understanding, even as a Psychic type Pokemon. Her origin and place on the council as appointed sorceress was a mystery to the young Gardevoir, who never saw it fit to question her. Most notably, the Delphox had an unhinged aura about her; one that didn't sit right with those with the ability to sense it.

"Young Abilene, our traveller has already been selected; it is I." She cast her wand towards Abilene. Sparks shot from it's blazing tip towards the braziers that lined the wall, lighting the torches.

Abilene's steadfast heart sunk and a knot rose in her throat. Her only opportunity to see the world while fulfilling her duties to the Faerielands was robbed from her. She could only stare onwards toward the mural of the shimmering world as it illuminated from the interior of the palacial walls that confined her and her spirit alike.

* * *

 **Several Months Later…**

Stripped of her jewels and regal adornments, Abilene waded through the bustling market square free of her royal curtailment. These overcast afternoons that erased her castle's shadow over her fellow residents were what the Gardevoir lived for. Free to mingle and socialize, she treated such activities as a hobby. However, Abilene often found little amusement in conversing with the vendors and traders who were focused little on pleasantries and entirely on peddling their goods, which each claimed as the finest in the Faerielands. It was the townsfolk, the common Pokemon that allured the young royal. She sought the stories, laughs and kindliness that were absent from her high-resting perch.

She would often make purchases simply to strike up conversations with a hefty pouch of seemingly endless coin. Exchanging her currency with a delighted Carbink jeweller as an excuse to engage, Abilene had hoped to spark up a dialogue. The hovering merchant handed over her purchase, a polished stone of raw Amethyst that was unset from any wearable base. The ebony purple gem felt weighty and all light that reached it's glossy exterior would resurface bathed in it's florid majesty. For all it's worth and splendor, it failed to attract the attention or interest of the shopkeep, who had returned to their duties rather than chat with the princess.

Feeling socially discouraged, a young Abilene set out from the astir market district. She swayed along the edge of the trimmed stone balcony that sat flush with the market square, but elevated the ground from the edge of a riverbank below. A strip of flourishing grass sloped upwards from the calm stream to meet with the stone arches that supported the mighty rock deck which the Gardevoir stood upon. Pink, red and dandelion flowers lined the edge where grass met the stone blocks, giving the whole scene a serene and fantastical air about it. Every angle of the Faerielands appeared as though it were posed for a painting, capturing a glorious fabled landscape of poise.

With a demoralized sigh, the stately Gardevoir slid her narrow legs across the burnished grey slabs of the low-lying protective wall, keeping the flaps of her lower dress-like body pressed firmly against her legs. With a courtly radiance, she lowered herself wearily beyond the supportive edges of the retaining wall. Her pegged feet meeting with the unspoiled earth, the rosy aura faded as she stumbled to gain her footing on the sloped surface. Abilene shut her eyes as she swept the wrinkles out from her ivory body, sitting dignified at the water's lip.

Although so close to home, she sat and fantasized that the view of the valley before her was unsearched land that teamed with promise of exploration and adventure. From the viewpoint she had found, her known world was behind her, lost to the meadows and far-off pinnacles that broadened her horizons. Closing her eyes to let her mind paint the landscape in the darkness, she began calming her mind with her intellectual power. While focusing her energy to power up her abilities, Calm Mind also had a use outside of combat, a much more practical one that fit it's namesake. This sanguine perspective suffused the youthful royal with the hope of discovery within herself.

Her meditative stance was short-lived as a sudden splash came just inches from the tips of her submerged legs. A large body leapt from the stream, sending liquid crystals of crisp spring water cascading onto Abilene as she staggered to stand, guarding her face from the water. With her thin arms protecting her face, she was unsure of what caused the unforeseen plunge until her fragile back laid flat against the rugged brick retaining wall.

"Well, well" said a dastardly sly voice. The inexperienced Gardevoir lowered her arms to view its source and was stunned to see how closely the creature stood. A Floatzel, baring his fangs with a maniacal grin had leapt from the water's shallow cover and was now slowly approaching her with clear malicious intent. "I'm supposin' that gem there cost quite the coin. 'Less it was stolen." He snarled a spiteful bark that audibly transformed into a guttural laugh. He was approaching at an intimidatingly slow pace.

"I-I've never stolen a thing, sir." Abilene bit her lip nervously.

"No? Shame! Consider this lesson one!" Floatzel lunged, ready to strike. He plucked the gem from Abilene's grasp with ease and shoved her dainty build into the wall. She shrieked and protected her face from potential attack as shock enveloped her. The rogue could have fled with his plunder then, but instead pivoted to gawk at his victim, gloating over her with sickening hubris. Abilene could only peer through her arms faint-heartedly at her assailant. The Gardevoir watched as his sly countenance fell into an abrupt panic and without a second to spare, the thief was engulfed by a striking flame.

Abilene felt the heat of the attack grace her skin. A moment of terror ensued for the unaware princess, expecting to be the target of the next mysterious fiery barrage. Instead, the flames were quenched and there stood what lied in the blazing attack. Abilene's tearful eyes darted to process the scene. Through blurred vision she would witness a new figure release a torrent of relentless kicking attacks, each strike followed by a trail of flames. Wiping her eyes in disbelief, the Gardevoir would witness her unknown defender's powerful strike shatter the unfathomable gemstone, splitting it in two and sending each chunk steaming onto the grass. The same wallop would send Floatzel packing into the gently fogged brook from which he emerged.

"You'll get what's comin' to ya, Ears! You're no better than me! You're a thief like the lot of us, Ears!" Floatzel bellowed and barked in pain, his face dark with ash. Abilene could just begin to see clearly when the voice of a coarse female asserted.

"Float off!" The princess's guardian pointed a familiar staff at the thief, who had descended into the water to never be seen again. Shaking, the Gardevoir collected herself, her eyelids pressed tightly. Her empathic abilities were strengthened by her meditation shortly before the spat. In her defender she felt wonderous things, a confidence to rival her own cowardice, a spirit that burnt her mind with it's scorching intensity; but most uniquely, Abilene sensed within her a deep longing. Desire lit up her mind just as it did for the Gardevoir, the aspiration to run free was striking.

Unsealing her eyes, she'd be greeted by her defender standing just inches away, the two shattered halves of the amethyst in each paw being extended towards Abilene. Her appearance was piercing but her gaze was heartfelt. Braixen, with a gem in each hand would nod towards them, insisting to return them to the Gardevoir. "Go on. Take 'em." Abilene was confounded as she sent her eyes staggering up and down the Braixen. Ill-prepared for this sort of interaction, Abilene bashfully reached for her jewel, her eyes nervously eluding contact.

She was shocked when the Braixen clutched her smooth hands firmly, but she didn't struggle. A foggy gust separated the pair for a moment of scrutinizing union, Abilene's eyes becoming magnetized to the fox's who stood downhill of the already towering princess. "You have to promise me that you won't tell the guards about me. I was never here" the Braixen pleaded.

Abilene felt like a disoriented child being thrown about underwater by a rough sea current. "Why, of course. You saved me, I see no reason to report you. You're a hero. I didn't catch your name."

Braixen ignored her final comment, striking her tongue like a matchstick. "I'm not a hero, I just couldn't stand there and watch that jerk push you around like that. "

Abilene pondered this for a moment, recalling the scene. She felt a grave confliction in the Fire-Type, who's warm paws still clenched her own. "I understand. That thief, he appeared to be familiar with you. He said you were one of them." Not a hint of fear escaped the Gardevoir's lips. This comforted and equally perplexed the Braixen.

"It isn't true!" If her tongue were a matchstick, her face became a bonfire. "I'm nothing like that creep. I just," she sighed, seemingly sympathizing with herself, as if she needed to convince her own mind that her words were the truth. "I've only stolen what I need to live, and only from those who have too much."

Never could the princess in all her splendor relate to such a frugal way of life. As Abilene looked into the eyes of a beggar and clutched her paws, she saw within herself her own internal struggle. She felt in Braixen's mind the wisdom of an ancient poem; and in her heart, the spirit of a thousand drums. The princess, with all her wealth and all her power, desired the life of the beggar.

"I don't believe I caught your name." The Gardevoir would pass on her own mollifying abilities through the touch. She felt the anxiety and worry leave the body of the young Braixen as her Calm Mind move swept through her like the gentle lapping of a lake extinguishing a candle.

"I… my name is Ears. Th-that's what everyone calls me." She loosened her apprehensive grip on Abilene's hands, allowing her to take her treasure. Instead, the Gardevoir would become the presiding figure, her hands maintaining the grip on Ears'.

"Ears. If you don't mind the intrusion, may I ask why you haven't left the Faerielands? You don't seem to have anything holding you back." Abilene envied the fox's lack of responsibilities. She wished she too could be as free a spirit as the young Braixen, despite the hardships she must face.

"I want to. I want to run as far from this place as I can, but... I've never had anyone to run away with. It seems like a useless thing to do. Homeless and alone in the Faerielands, homeless and alone anywhere else. When I leave, I want to leave my troubles behind." Ears seemed to have a strict moment of clarity, snapping loose of the Gardevoir's Calm Mind. She looked puzzled, not at ease, as though she had divulged something incriminating. "W-why am I telling you this? I don't even know who you are!"

Complacently smiling, the Gardevoir took hold of one half of her split gem allowing the other to fall with Ears' paws to her side, and the fox studied it bewilderedly as though it were the only gift she had ever received.

"My name is Abilene, princess of the Faerielands, and I want to run away."

* * *

 **Several Months Later…**

Around Abilene's neck hung a single jewel in place of her previous assortment. Refracting it's indigo hue, the split amethyst absorbed the orange torch fires that danced to light the council hall of her palatial home. The Gardevoir was uncharacteristically early, arriving even before Aromatisse and her constant schmoozing of the royal family. Abilene sat alone without an escort watching the sun's rays illuminate the hall through the stained glass mural of the flowery world. She was alone with her thoughts for long enough the admire that no matter the shade of incandescence to meet with her moonless gem, all light would exit bathed the same hue.

"It's marvelous, isn't it?" an echoed voice creaked through Abilene. She needn't turn, as the tone was recognized.

"Madame Ferox, I hadn't realized you had returned. Has it truly been six months since you departed?" Abilene's pitch shook as she addressed the magess without formally facing her, giving an air of cold-shoulder to the Delphox she held in contempt. Nevertheless, the haughty witch would make her approach until she stood beside the emotionally caged princess.

"The world I travelled had little to offer of which I was interested, Dewdrop." With a worthier manner, Ferox held herself higher than the young Abilene, who had grown considerably since the magess' diplomatic excursion months prior. The name Dewdrop boiled the princess from the inside, being an unfitting moniker that had been assigned to her since birth by the supercilious elder. Alone in the council chambers, Abilene had been tempted to make her unpleasantries known, but the revolution in her was quieted quickly. Madame Ferox waved her wand alit.

"This mural stuck in my mind throughout it all. Through every journey I couldn't be free of this unshakeable depiction of our world blossoming to life with our signature meadows. The notion could never seem to part with me; how much more beautiful the outside world would be if it were all like home." She grinned a devious leer.

An anxious Gardevoir befell to a simmering irritation. "What a ridiculous notion; that the uniqueness of our world should benefit from being robbed of it's wonders to become uniform to one's own standard of beauty." She twisted her torso the opposite direction to which Madame Ferox faced and began towards her seat at the council table. "Excuse me, Madame. I must take my seat."

Speechless, the Delphox offered no rebuttal. As members of the Royal Familial Council would pour in one by one, each would offer a feigned greeting from behind a facade of apathy to Abilene, who would return the gesture with one befitting. Aromatisse, Slowking, her own mother, all would feel equidistant. Then, surprise arose in the young princess as an unfamiliar youthful figure entered, escorted heavily. Surrounded with a similar musk of snobbery, the male Gallade's identity and purpose was unbeknownst to Abilene. What stood out eminently was his stately manner, chocked full of forced pleasantries that Abilene knew all too well. Still, seeing this customary behavior repeated before her was unsavory.

Abilene was already seated when the Queen declared "Calling together this adjournation of the Royal Familial Council, I invite all members to assist in consolidating our diplomatic relations by greeting our guest; Prince Gallade of Mystheim."

 _A prince from a foreign land?! Are all royal figures doomed to a life of stiff airs and graces?_

Abilene cogitated internally. Her graces were not held by Gallade in his introductions, but in this moment when all eyes were trained on the foreign prince, his were focused on Abilene. Gallade advanced and with the air of a perfect gentleman, he knelt before the disquieted princess.

"My humblest of salutations, fair princess." As though to further the Gardevoir's fretfulness, the prince lifted her nimble hand to the sound of Aromatisse's distant smitten coos. A diplomatic spotlight shone on Abilene brighter than any foreign sun.

"And mine to you, your majesty." Modestly, she retracted her hand from his. This seemed to humiliate the prince, who's scarlet eyes seemed to lour for a moment of discontent.

To shatter the room with her voice, Madame Ferox stood, the tip of her wand dancing with sparks of yellow flame. "Your highness, if I may, it would please me greatly if I may present to the council the noteworthy task I mentioned." Without waiting for approval, the Delphox listed about the room with coy purpose.

Her voice, did it display a peculiar intimation of glee? What is this task?

Abilene's empathic abilities spiked, sensing a self-approving radiance in the Delphox. In herself, she grew fearful in anticipation of the Fire-Type's every move.

"Guards! Bring forth the scum!" shouted the vibrant sorceress with a voice like an un-oiled machine. At her beckon, a rasping screech of metallic chains drifted through the ears of all present royals. Abilene recognized expansive concern from every present royal, excluding Gallade, who's steely eyes themselves could have been the source of the metallic echo. Towering doors slammed figures entered, silhouetted by torchlight. Their every movement fed the jarring howl of dragged chains that exuded from them. As effulgence escaped her rubied eyes and vision returned, Abilene was incapable to process the gruesome sight unfolding. "Standing before you all is a degenerate so vile in her intent, that I deem her punishment fit for royal adjudication."

Though Ferox's words wove a tale of a brutish malefactor, Abilene's crimson eyes read an innocent and familiar passage. Chained between two barbaric Granbull, muzzled with a torturous contraption, and bruised profusely; Ears relinquished her spirit. The Braixen drifted consciously, comatose to the fiery pep Abilene knew from her. In this moment of acute revelation, the Gardevoir's heart, mind and passion galloped and a metaphysical concrete was poured into her mold. Abilene was grief-stricken the second she recognized her companion in leaden bondage; as she understood there was no hope, no safety, and no likelihood of freedom for either Ears or herself. Ears' countenance was that of defeat, hung low and without the satisfaction of her dazzling eyes to brighten Abilene's perspective.

Ferox let loose a trail of words so thick with deceit that the mental smog would cloud the judgement of all who heard her tale. "Her intentions were clear; the marauder before you deliberated to kidnap a member of our royal family." Feeding into her veins like pure adrenaline, Ferox's dastardly words breathed second wind into the Braixen. Her bloodshot eyes whipped open and she lunged, curiously, for the witch's unlit baton. Abilene gasped, anticipating a brawl, but no such luck would have her. The brawny Granbull restrained her bondage, and tightened the chains to sit deeply in her knotted fur. Ears' brow covered the upper portion of her soulful stare in abhorrence for the sorceress. The vehement hatred melted away when her scornful eyes met with the Gardevoir's familiar gaze. Trying to shout to her companion, the Braixen's cries were smothered by a muzzle fashioned tightly like a snake around it's prey.

The Queen rose whilst the Granbull forced their prisoner to her knees in a genuflect. Abilene felt nauseous, unable to produce a sound. Utter terror set into her, pressed like a thousand scorching needles to her chest. The Queen declared with stern resonance, "Remove her gag. Allow her to plead." A hearty grunt signafied the guards' understanding. Madame Ferox shifted uneasily to the sound of a metallic clank welcoming the heavy muzzle to the floor. Panting and groaning, Ears feasted on the freshness of the quiescent air before locking eyes with Abilene. The Gardevoir lamented and her heart withered as fearful legs refused to rush to her friend's aid.

"Abi…" forced Ears. Her lips were crusted and her words coarse. Present company, Abilene and Gallade excluded, gasped at her first words. "Tell them, Abi… Tell them about our plan." Coughing, she pummeled a paw into the grandiose marble floor. "...our plan to run away together."

A roomful of suspenseful eyes widened. Gasps were short-lived as the focus of a kingdom drew to the young heartless princess. Every fiber of her being wept in place of tears while thoughts of unspoken horror filled her expectations. The princess and the thief had been apprehended. Abilene lacked the strength to face her mother, who's ornate crown seared from her boiling blood.

"She spews deceitful drabble. Does she not, Abilene?" Madame Ferox's words stung and poisoned the paralyzed Gardevoir, dumbstruck by fear and abysmal surmise. Abilene's lips quaked and trembled, producing no sound.

Desperately, Ears shrieked "Abi! Tell them!" Her voice became shrill and crackled. Shackled Braixen's confidence faltered witnessing her silent partner. "Tell them!"

Again, Abilene's cowardice and anxiety quelled her words. Madame Ferox snickered, howling with a sickening reverberance. "Enough!" shouted an unregistered tone, missed by the sorrowful Gardevoir. The foreign prince stood, his steps echoed in a silent chamber. His majesty's dutiful poise stood over the Braixen's thwarted spirit. Her uncomfortably tight restraints abraded her skin when the Granbull yanked her still. Her struggling ceased as Prince Gallade brought his foot forcefully to the back of Ears' matted head, slowly applying pressure to drive her face into the glacial and unsympathetic marble floor. Nobody attempted to halt his aggression. Abilene feared a blackout from sheer timidity.

"Your majesty, if it may please your council" the bullish prince begun. "No kingdom deserves such a bilgeful rat, not even in their own dungeons." His leathery foot applied further pressure, causing Ears to grunt and moan. "As a token of goodwill from my homeland, I shall relocate this burden to Mystheim, where she shall live out her putrid days in exile and chains where scum belongs."

Abilene fell dizzy. She could feel her projected spirit throwing Gallade to the ground and liberating Ears from torturous clutches. How vividly the princess saw her own heel crushing the villainous prince's skull beneath. Yet her corporeal form remained rigid. Moments slipped by undetected, as though Abilene were concussed. With an earthly gasp she regained herself from the trauma induced cognitive brawl. As her surroundings became clear, the petrified Gardevoir beared witness to the Granbull and Gallade pulling Ears along the floor, her skin burning from the friction beneath her fur.

Fearful tears flung from Ears' maw as she bellowed. "Coward! Tell them the truth! You coward! Coward! We met for months! I trusted you! Coward!"

Similar experiences could only be described in a form of sleep paralysis, where one is subjected to their innermost fears. Torment and excruciating panic fill your being while your body remains lifeless, unable to stir. As her closest friend befell her unrighteous betrayal, Abilene's spirit abandoned her body as though to make chase, and the princess slipped out of consciousness. The terminal racket that clawed in her ears was the heinous laugh of Madame Ferox followed by behemoth doors crashing together. The Braixen was removed from her life, and hope followed suit.

"Wake, Dewdrop." Abilene was stirred awake by the mighty clamor of her fellow councilors. She feared their wrath, but in her rousing moments, she was treated to looks of sympathy. Abilene's immediate response was that of disgust, that the royals' ignorance would lead them to prosecute an innocent for simply speaking the truth that they blindly tossed aside. But she had behaved no morally superior. She had failed to act when her time had come.

"I imagine this fortuity has left you feeling gravely ill, my daughter." The Queen rested a tender outreach on Abilene's sweltering forehead. "Your safety is my highest concern. For tomorrow you shall perform the highest honor for your kingdom. To strengthen our alliance with the neighboring Mystheim, my daughter, you shall be wed to Prince Gallade."

* * *

 **Later that Same Night…**

A night sky of ethereal tulips and fog whisps painted a masterpiece among the stars above. Tips of pink flowered chesto trees dared to draw strokes in the purple expanse as they swayed and danced to the howling song of the wind high atop their perched hill. Overlooking the stars that shone in the valley below, the scenic homes were lit along the river to their own galaxy. The tenebrosity of the moonlit meadow faded the vibrant colors of illustrious pink kelpsy flowers that lined the landscape. Autumn air tore petals from their branches, sending them off from their familiars to flutter about across the artistic scene until making impact with the colossal bricked walls of the castle.

A canvas comet cascaded through the hanging thickets that sat amongst the stone partition. As the knapsack struck the viridescent earth with a metallic crash, a few coins spilled forth from the mouth. Several stories skywards, a willful Gardevoir gathered her strength. The dimly lit valley below her castle window masked her packed bag's impact. Her evening's shortcomings occupied every second of her free thought. Abilene dreaded her descent, but was inspired by the harrowing images of her beloved friend and the pain she so undeservedly endured.

 _I'll come for you, Ears. I won't allow you to suffer further at my failing. I'll find someone to help and we will rescue you._

"So it's true… you are running away." Perhaps the single voice that held the significant power to stop Abilene in her tracks shot through her already guilt-ridden heart. The sulking princess shamefully pivoted to gaze upon her saddened reflection. In her entryway stood her anchor.

"Dear sister… I'm not abandoning you here. I'm no longer welcome in this land." Abilene knelt to level her height in equal respect for her juvenile sister. No jewels or regal adornments bore their imprint on the young Kirlia in this stage of night. She stood at a recessed height, slouching her posture. She was called Rei. Abilene enveloped the door behind her with a psychic aura and shut it meekly.

"What do you mean not welcome? You're a princess! You're important here, nowhere else, here" her junior insisted.

Abilene sighed and stroked her sister's hair in anguish. "Princess Abilene of the Faerielands is important here, but I am not." She feigned a smile to comfort her young sibling. "I am someone greater. Someone with a purpose that lies beyond royal meetings and genteel pleasantries. I need to find myself, and do my part to fix this world, Rei. Try to understand, little one. Pull your heart to your head and know that everything I have ever done has been for their kingdom. This, my dearest sister, is finally for me." The Gardevoir offered a comforting hand which her sister rejected in aloof grief.

"You were going to be queen someday… you were going to marry a prince and live here forever with me." Tears welted in young Rei's adolescent eyes.

"I've had no say in those futures. Neither have you, dear. I'm running so that I may help to shape a world in which you and I have a choice." The sheepish Gardevoir felt the lump rise in her throat along with the tears in her sister's eyes. She had long considered the effect her departure would have on Rei. The two were inseparable, but in the end, Abilene's hand dealt her sorrowful demise had she stayed any longer. To be pawned off to some foreign dignitary she held no pragmatic feelings towards was the shortest straw she could imagine. She hoped that in her absence, she would be leaving Rei with the most important lesson of her childhood; to shape her own destiny, to imagine what could be, rather than what is.

Kirlia choked through her speech, faltering and embracing Abilene warmly. Tears invaded her words as she spoke. "Abi, will I ever see you again?" The heartfelt question sunk Abilene into an existential panic. She didn't know.

Reassuringly, she held her sibling tightly in her arms. "Yes." Her cut amethyst stone was pressed firmly between the sisters before she lifted the strand over her head and affixed it around the Kirlia's neck. The gesture left the stone hanging much further due to the size difference of the sisters, and a single tear fell from Rei's scarlet eyes to gloss the stone's exterior. "You will see me every day in this. Now…" Abilene rose, simulating a firm but loving act to mask the inner heartbreak she was experiencing, solely to protect Rei from a similar emotional rampage. "I must depart. You won't have aged a day since we next meet, dear sister."

Rei sniffled. Obviously unequipped to handle such a loss, she clung to Abilene's attenuated legs. "P-please… I don't want to lose you."

"You can never lose someone, little one. You carry with you a part of them, always. Their voice, their laugh, their memories; all live on through you. You can never lose someone…" The princess's words fell on deaf ears but her own. She reflected on her own wisdom and shut her eyes with a blackened pressure, begging that they be true.

Reluctantly the pair separated and Gardevoir dragged her legs cautiously across the windowsill. Abilene shared one final parting glance with her beloved sister and felt confident in her departure. Her goodbyes had been said and her conscience cleared. "May we reunite in a better world, dear." Rei didn't understand, but she nodded. The reasoning behind Abilene's desertion made little sense to the adolescent princess.

"I hope you find what you're looking for." Rei expressed meekly.

This brought a smile to the Gardevoir's previously dismal countenance. "As do I." Without another exchange to be had, Abilene softly fluttered down with an otherworldy power. An uneasy sense crept up beneath her as her tipped feet made impact with freedom. In the nightly air where the painting of the Faerielands mixed with a thick black hue, only one landmass remained a visible target. The unshackled Gardevoir, princess no longer, began her trek in the direction of the snow christened spire of Starpeak Mountain.


	5. Carpe Noctem

**IV**

 **Carpe Noctem**

* * *

 **Present Day**

Cotton-like particles fluttered through the overturned brush, ascending to meet with the nightly stars high above. Scarlet petals crushed under paw gave path to a trail shooting for the heart of the dimly drowned meadow. The air was thick with honeyed dew, the likes of which would add a sweet taste to the aromatic field and painted the glistening aspear flowers to reflect the moon's radiance. Gone were the buzzing of the Combees' wings. The blossoms' servants had retreated for the night, returning to their primitive homes as even feral Pokemon did. Cracking and breaking twigs dominated the sounds of the peaceful meadow like miniscule bouts of thunder.

With storm clouds in her heart, Feather's pushed aside the tall stalks of flowered stems. Snover's abrupt arrival had sent her packing away from the dreary eyes of villagers in the night. With nothing but her satchel, still loaded with gemstones of flickering brilliance, Feathers escaped the cold reality that unfolded. Fleeing into the lush meadow surrounding her village, the vehement Sneasel slowed for nothing. Rose colored petals danced through the air as they were broken from their stems and sent skyward by the whistling wind that carried the ripe citrus smell throughout the valley. Darkened roofs grew ever distant behind her as Feathers fled through the pasture, her mind a flurry of conflict. As damp paw met with moistened soil, each step drained the life from the maiden. Her furious tredge faltered to a brisk jog as she calculated her movements less manically, taking a moment to pause and pant for the sweet night air to bless her frozen lungs.

Her instinctive Dark-Type ability to see clearly in dim light guided her path through the forest of three-foot high dewed stalks. Her nose twitched as she detected a hint of an unlikely musk unfamiliar to the field of ripe fruity aromas. There was a masculine presence within the flora maze, and it was growing ever near. Feathers' tail twitched nervously and her ears followed suit like clockwork. Her legs worked to put as much distance between her and the unseen creature as possible, but the flowery scent confused her tireless nose, which wiggled in the air to little avail. Piercing through the night, her gaze fixated on an upcoming clearing beneath a vast aspear tree. Sneasel schemed to climb one of the ancient oaken arms to survey her surroundings.

Ice-skinned body slammed through the final brush and gave way to the circular dell. A shocked hiss escaped the Sneasel before recognizing the figure that sat remiss amongst the red-tipped petals and fluorescent stars. An ancient presence to rival the mighty aspear that stretched it's arms above head. "Ice-Type" muttered low gravelly lips from behind an overgrown beard of fur.

"Mayor Chesnaught…" Feathers was dispirited to witness the elder. His wisdom could counter her impulsive nature strongly and the Sneasel was nothing if not impulsive.

"Where's the fire? You're in an awful hurry to get nowhere." Each word that passed from his ancient throat had to fight for air. It unfairly stung Feathers to hear such effort put towards logically questioning her illogical actions. She couldn't brush off his powerful words like everyone else's.

Sneasel huffed and rubbed at her shoulder awkwardly where her knapsack's strap lived. If her internal temperatures could easily allow for rosy cheeks in embarrassment, they'd be glowing to rival the nearby burgundy of the night filtered flowers. Modestly, her petite stature slumped and her eyes fixed on the ground, unable to respond. She knew not what she was doing, only how she felt from the evening's revelations; inept, anxious, mortified. In running away Sneasel acted out her feelings without cause or plan, and it sickened her. She despised how the very presence of the senior could revolutionize her own thinking without so much as a hint or tip from the male himself, who silently empathized with the turmoil within her and recognized her thoughtless actions.

"Do you know where we are, Ice-Type?" His voice had a similar crunch to a forceful paw sinking into gravel. Feathers only shrugged, her eyes fixed on the ground in self-engrossing shame. "This is my favorite spot in the world", Chesnaught continued. "I travelled for years in my prime. I saw the deepest valleys, the bluest oceans, and the highest peaks." The elder wiped his brow, reliving his glory days with a captive audience. Feathers felt compelled to listen, to analyze his wisdom so that she may silently grow her own. "I was quite the adventurous soul; and as you could imagine, I met my fair share of rescue teams." He glanced acknowledgingly toward her. "I know the type well. They're either the greediest, slimiest no-good fiends you'll ever meet, or the most sincere hearts. When you've been alive as long as I have, Feathers, a Pokemon's eyes begin to speak for their soul. I know your type."

Flustered, the Sneasel pulled at her knapsack. It was the first time the mayor had ever referred to her by name and the syllables were forlorn, as though it were a forbidden word or from a foreign tongue. Defensively, she snapped her head around, turning away in offense. "Hmmph! You don't know anything about me!"

Chesnaught inhaled a gust of fresh wind and allowed a moment to pass, easing the tension. "I planted this tree, Ice-Type." He shifted his weight against it, two decrepit bodies pressed together to support one another and for a brief moment, they were ageless. Sneasel's ear twitched as the only indication that she was invested in the elder's tale. Under the matted, shivering beard; Chesnaught smiled. "-and with it, I planted myself. Because for all of that travel, the world's splendor hailed in comparison to having a home." He stroked his furred chin methodically, lost in memories. "I planted this tree to mark my home. It gave me a home to return to, to tend to." The senior stroked the bark on the withering tree in a similar fashion to his beard, gazing into the crevices and cracks as though they were the great unknown and inhaling it's timbered waft. "Like this tree, a home can not be abandoned. It can not be left unwatered. I planted myself here and the village sprouted; full of like-minded souls, weary of travel. They ran so far and so often, they outran their homes; as did I." He sighed. "As did you."

Sweet air filled Feathers' nostrils in a silent gasp. She tilted her shortly furred head. More curious than frustrated, her mood fluctuated as she was left awestruck by the mayor's claims.

"Feathers…" Chesnaught heaved his body, pulling it from the rough, sappy bark. The smell of the tree sap retained to his fur, giving him a distinct pleasant sour scent as he knelt beside the contemplative young Sneasel. "You can not make that mistake again. Plant yourself."

Shaken lips quivered, a breathless exhale carried her defenseless response to battered ears. "Where?"

"Not 'where'," ancient oaken skin grasped Sneasel's shoulder lightly, "who." Chesnaught's erstwhile gaze shot beyond the Ice-Type towards the quaint Scarlet Borough. "Often times, home isn't a tree or a village in need of protection. It's not where you were born, raised, or even where you lay your head. Home is a Pokemon; a family."

Family. The word sank into Sneasel's frostbitten heart and stung like a poison needle. Warmth repleted inside of her petite frame and in steadfast respite, the young Ice-Type lifted her head and locked eyes with Chesnaught. The mayor had become a wellspring of knowledge, overflowing with relevancy and uncharacteristic candor. Feathers' stare held emptiness, receiving the cruelty which her mind fed her. The look displeased her elder.

Swallowing, she parted her lips to speak, but held her tongue momentarily, pondering her every move with scrutinizing constituency. When she finally released her captive thoughts, they were hoarse, dry and chilled. "My home… it needs me. I-I can't risk losing another." As frozen as the air which surrounded the two for a mere moment, Feathers struggled to deliver her emotions through spoken word.

"Another home?" Chesnaught suggested.

"Another family…" Feathers solemnly replied with a melancholic sigh.

Her heart felt as full of sap and debris as the ancient trunk she stood beside. Citrus eluded the Sneasel's detection, as the contemplative silence she shared with Chesnaught lingered long enough to adjust her scent to that of the lilac meadow. Focused on the task at hand, Feathers teetered on a moral fence she had long hypothetically debated.

Chesnaught's own thoughts came to fruition, as the elder's rickety neck tilted in astonishment. To find himself still able of shock proved the Sneasel's true mystery was endearing to him; deducting such a mystery rivalled his former travels in excitement and difficulty. It gave him a sense of urgency and adrenaline he had experienced seldom in old age. "But you aren't running from family, are you? You're running to protect it."

Feathers offered little indication if he was correct. She simply broke her gaze, shifting her eyes towards the distant mountaintops and high-crested icy peaks. Sneasel stared up to her task; to her former home.

"And likewise," Chesnaught continued, steamrolling his words beyond weary lips. "You don't fear the journey ahead. Not once have you shown uncertainty towards whatever lies down your path. No, your fear. It isn't your own. It's Abilene's."

Defensively, she tightened her muscles instinctively and grunted. "Hmph. I'm not afraid of what'll happen to me when I return home because I know destiny wills it. I dug myself into a hole back home, before I met Abilene. Ya know, that little fella tonight called me a hero. I'm not." Feathers scornfully scoffed. "I told the kid I wasn't ready, but that's not the truth. We aren't ready. That's why I'm running. I deserve this. She does not."

The brazen mayor pieced together the foggy puzzle in his own mind, but lacked the resources to complete the clear image of Feathers' past. Shrouded in mystery, this was one story that escaped even his wandering ears. "Whatever lies in wait for you, you don't have to face it alone."

Stubbornly, Sneasel rebutted. "Its my fate and my fate alone. Ab-... She isn't ready."

"All this talk of fate and destiny; I never took you for one to believe in such things. Whatever the burden, Ice-Type, Abilene's loyalty will stand with you. She would stroll to the end of our world with a smile as bright as the sun if it meant you two could come out on top. I've seen it."

Feathers chimed in, morally compromised and distraught by her simulated journey. "I know she would. That's why I have to do this alone, don't ya get it? I can lose myself to my own mistakes; but I can't afford to lose another family to Him!" Appalled by her own language, Sneasel grasped her heart with a chilled claw and felt her upper lip go numb in agony.

"Him?" Chesnaught turned to stand in the sightlines of the young Dark-Type. His senescent eyes located the final piece of his mental puzzle on the horizon when they met with the snow-tipped crest of distant Starpeak Mountain. His countenance fell, an atypical sight. Shock once again met the elder's mind; and this time, his heart. "Him" he muttered grotesquely again, visualizing the summit of the jagged mountain range that rose superior to his valley of joyous flora. Without compromising his noble genuflect, he turned his attention towards Feathers once more. With a hearty exhale and a satisfied mind, the image of the young girl before him became clearer.

"Ah. I know exactly who you are."

* * *

Abilene's outstretched hand lay dormant on the gentle youth's shoulder. With her metaphysical powers, she slowed Snover's heart rate and her own, calming their minds. Snover's shuddering body had ceased, becoming enveloped in a radiant pink glow. "Now then" her harpsichord voice plucked, "tell me once more. What was his name?"

Snover's beaded eyes found a way to look panicked even throughout the therapeutic experience, darting from each corner of the stone house until finally resting just below the Gardevoir's prying gaze. His body remained still, yet his voice trembled through frightened lips. "T-the Hunter Weavile. His name is The Hunter Weavile, ma'am, and he's wicked, you bet! Least, that's what mama always called 'im. Wicked."

The humble caretaker grasped a moment to understand the youth's words. "Wicked? And you adduce that he is king in your land?" Abilene's voice never trailed from soothing, though her heart ached, full of grief for Feathers' abrupt departure and what this upset had meant for their relationship. Her faith in the Sneasel had lessened with each passing second that she chose not to return.

"You bet. It used to be that our leader would call 'emself the Tribe Leader. But that all changed with Hunter Weavile. That's what mama says. I was too young to remember a time before he was king." Snover possessed an infrequent but uneasy air about him, as though immense discomfort in his heart battled Abilene's sleuthful empathic abilities.

"Your mother sounds quite knowledgeable. However, Starpeak Mountain lies two-days out from here. It seems an awful distance to traverse for a lone child. Why is it that she did not attempt this journey herself or accompany you?" An innocent chord plucked from a curious instrument, her question hung about the silent room for a heavy moment. Eerie discord flushed through Snover's extended mind, making the cavernous pain he felt finally known to Abilene. As realization struck, the Gardevoir did all she could to fight off the urge to weep, influenced by the longing of the motherless child. "How brave you are, young one. Your courage is worthy of envy." Abilene winced, feeling a guilt tainted emotional needle prick her side. She had fled her kingdom without a care to return to her own mother; Snover had fled to seek help in the absence of his own.

"She's in trouble, ma'am. Hunter Weavile took her away." Snover's words wavered, the sound mimicking a frantic, lost child.

Abilene's eyes paced the room. "Do you have any friends back home willing to lend us their strength to rescue your mother?"

"He… he took everyone, miss. He took 'em all because they didn't like him. That's what mama said before…" Too choked up to continue on, Snover let out a muffled gulp and froze.

Abilene picked up where he left off, her words piercing his anxious fears. "Whether Feathers returns or not does not matter. I will help you, Snover." Fueled by the insatiable desire to help the frightened child, Abilene threw caution to the wind, fully submerging herself in the fantasy of a rescue without her Sneasel companion.

"Goodness that's mighty kind of you, miss Abilene, but…" the youth's voice trailed off as he gathered himself again. Abilene admired his inner strength. "Everyone at home is always sayin' I muck everything up. I suppose im a bit clumsy, you bet. And they all know that only Feathers can save 'em. It's nothin' 'gainst you, miss! Nothin' at all!"

The Gardevoir took puzzled offense, failing to comprehend the situation. "What is Feathers required for? Why is she the only one who can help?"

Snover gulped. "It's what Hunter Weavile told 'em." Troubled by his lackluster explanation, Snover stuttered for a moment to explain further before he lost the charitable Gardevoir. "Froslass reckons he wants to draw her out of hiding. Froslass is Feathers' friend, you bet. She's super smart! Anywho, Froslass says Hunter Weavile is threatened by Feathers! Reckon those two have a history. Froslass says Hunter Weavile wants to make sure Feathers can't interfere with him, so he's trying to draw her out so he can… take care of her, you bet."

Formal Abilene stood hopeless to comprehend it all. She once coveted all the information she could regarding her partner's life before they met. She longed for the day that Feathers, of her own accord, would bestow her story onto Abilene's weightless shoulders. Snover didn't understand the lost expression the Gardevoir wore. "I simply need time to process this all. A history with a tyrannical dictator, connections to old friends such as this Froslass, and being the sole fear of a mad king; none of these attributes match well with my view of Feathers. Her past has eluded me for our entire company. To hear how eventful those tales were, I believe I now understand her apprehension regarding them."

"Gosh, I'm afraid I don't know much more, miss. I wish I could help, but Feathers was a summit gal and mama always said it's best to stay outta summit business, you bet!"

Gardevoir feigned a lackluster smile. "You've already given me more than enough to think about. It's true that I have many questions, but they are for Feathers to answer regardless." The gentle hum of Abilene's Calm Mind helped to create a serene setting for the troubled youth. "I want you to rest soundly knowing that I will do everything in my power to ensure the safety of your home." Abilene cast aside Feathers' rigid words she bore witness to earlier that night. The customarily headstrong and confident Sneasel feared the road ahead, but Abilene appeared to summon the courage necessary to convince herself that she had a chance.

Snover gave the impression that he understood, nodding vigorously. Abilene gestured towards a curtain that hid a large knitted mat, stuffed to the brim with Mareep wool. The bed was frequently washed and smelled oddly pleasant, like the skin of a blossoming Skiploom under the caress of springtime rain. "Rest here for tonight, regain your strength, and tomorrow we shall make haste towards your village." Snover hopped off of his rooted paws and did so accordingly without exhausting another word.

In the pale moonlit home after the fatigued Grass-Type had drifted off to sleep, Abilene sat, legs crossed in deep thought. She lit a fire in the ample central furnace to drive back the Autumnal chill and found herself mesmerized by the orange dance of flames. The regal Gardevoir once feared fire as an unpredictable force of chaos. The shape shifted and rose, turning air into unbreathable smoke while devouring any substance it's furious body could engulf. It was Feathers who taught Abilene not to fear the blaze. A natural empath, Abilene's ability to read emotions as though they were a passage from a book helped form her understanding of fire. Emotions, especially when compromised, will fluctuate and sway with a chaotic momentum. There is a fire burning in Feathers that has never been extinguished. The former princess had felt it since the day they met, scorching the Sneasel from within. Like the plasmatic blaze, Feathers' intentions are easily misread. Drawing similarities to a close, the fire and the Sneasel were both unpredictable, but both provided Abilene with a necessary comfort that she once feared.

Her contemplative nature saw her reflect on these facts while Snover slept soundly behind. Her attenuated frame blocked the blaze's shine from disturbing him. With her eyes sealed shut, Abilene felt a shift in aura. Abilene's nervous contempt and sense of risky gamble had doubled, as though another being nearby felt similarly in a manner to rival the Gardevoir's fear of the journey ahead. Rather than investigate, she remained deep in puzzled cognition. Her gaze fixated on nothingness behind occluded eyes. Emotional disconnect existed in it's purest form as Abilene was unaware of her corporeal surroundings, lost in the tides of her mind, searching desperately through layers of emotion to separate her own from the unseen doppelganger's.

In this otherwordly struggle, Abilene failed to hear the gentle creak of the door and the pattern of methodical, familiar footsteps enter. Following the padded footsteps that fell on deaf ears, a sea of nervousness filled Abilene's meditative mind. The apprehrension wasn't born of her own thoughts, it was foreign and in the moment, as though it were the tugging fear to speak first and disturb silence. Realizing the nature of this empathetic feeling, Abilene threw herself from her meditation with a gasp. As she had hoped the night would produce, Feathers stood before her in the vestibule of their home bearing an expression less grim than during her departure.

"You've returned." Abilene had exhausted her faith in the Sneasel for the night, knowing her devotion would return come morning. In this dead of night, she hadn't expected to lay eyes on her partner again, let alone feel the same risk-born anxieties as her own fears.

Feathers said nothing, simply watching the dainty Gardevoir's every movement with keen perception.

"Why?" Abilene began. "Why did you return? You seem to understand the impeccable odds you face. You appeared cavalier about leaving this behind you, no matter what you'd lose. You ran."

Feathers' response began as an accidental snarl. "I need to know."

Abilene's puzzled countenance shifted as her head innocently tilted. "You? What must you know, Feathers?"

"I need to know if you're ready for this."

All of the anxiety flowed from her weightless feet and relieved control in the Gardevoir. Facing this journey alone was a risk her life could not afford, and yet she planned to take it. Hearing this, the slightest opportunity that she could face the unspeakable demons of her partner's past alongside her; it besmirched her doubts and cleared her mind. "I am."

"I don't mean, like, are you ready to go, Abi. I mean can I trust you to hold your own? This," Feathers motioned with her claws as she spoke, her tongue twisted her words around a metropolitan accent, "this isn't like our regular jobs. This isn't petty thugs and lost kids. This is another world, Abi. The things we'll face on this road, I've gotta be honest, I don't know if we'll make it back." Feathers shamefully caressed the back of her own neck, sheepishly sighing. "This is what I've been running from for so long."

The sobriety and lack of unabashed smugness sidelined Abilene in the most pleasant way possible. Here was her gung-ho partner, headstrong and foolhardy down to the razor tipped edges of her fanged teeth; and yet she opened herself to the Gardevoir, making vulnerable the unclaimed emotions within her. Sensing the Sneasel's unease with the genuine unfamiliarity of openness, Abilene grinned with comforting aplomb. "So an adventure, then? Grander than those that came before it?"

To find her mind at consolation, the Sneasel's stubborn walls failed her. The realization crept into her mind that no matter how useful Abilene proved on this journey, she couldn't leave her behind even if she believed doing so would protect her. She couldn't bare to leave her newfound home. She would bring home with her. Feather's somber fangs revealed themselves in a rarely formed delicate smile.

"Sure, Abi, an adventure."


	6. The Dream Eaters

**V**

 **The Dream Eaters**

* * *

Dewdrops glistened under the morning sun, refracting vibrant red petals in dawn's first light. Dirt roads remained untrodden as time journeyed beyond the rising of the sun. Time passed comfortably in Scarlet Borough; nobody was ever in a hurry. The scent of untilled soil graced the air and carried it's pervasive aroma throughout the village's stiff air and the acres of surrounding flowers. In the humid autumn morning, the first to awaken and emerge from their homes could taste the nearby aspear berries in the soupy air that slept in the valley.

Clockwork as every day before, the same Pokemon ventured to the streets before anyone else. The merchants tidied their stalls and storefronts, taking inventory and occasionally appropriating a berry from their stock to enjoy before the stars' final flickers were met above. Citrusy dirt stirred about as the streets were walloped by rising hooves, paws and feet.

A circle of vendors resided in the center of town, jolly competition for one another as always. From out of a woven sack, an assortment of berries tumbled, each brightly colored and ripe. "Whoops! Sorry, papa." cried a child's voice in a frenzied panic. An Aipom wearing a play-scarf woven from a thistle and red aspear grass hopped over the counter of their family's market stall. "I've got 'em!" The child filled his stubby arms with large scoops of fruit until it piled higher than his eyes were situated. Aipom blindly stumbled as his tail quickly nabbed the flavorful berries.

"Careful son! Sometimes I swear the dirt is your most loyal customer!" Chuckling arose from a still figure, who's ambidextrous tails were searching the innards of the woven sack without the vigilant watch of the Pokemon himself. Ambipom and Aipom ran a father/son supply shop in Scarlet Borough. They dealt mainly to weary travelers passing through without wishing to lay their heads to rest, but their market also relied heavily on rescue teams and adventurers. Few adventurous types made their home among the red waves of foliage here, but change came fleeting from the horizon when an oddly formal Gardevoir arrived one day without a possession to her name.

"Told ya you could trust me, papa!" a giddy Aipom exclaimed with pride as he stumbled about aimlessly with his mound of goods.

"Well let's not forget who dropped them in the first place, kiddo!" Ambipom laughed heartily.

With one misplaced step, the youngster squished a forgotten rawst berry, releasing a slimy juice that greased his paw and shot out from under him. A shrill simian screech flew from Aipom's lips as his horde of fruit jumped in the air and he slipped backwards, his tail and hind paws above his head in the blink of an eye. Before his father could even react, Aipom's stumble was abruptly halted by a peculiar fairy glow. The pink luminescence smelled like sterile air and cotton candy, which was immediately noticed by the bracing Aipom. Ambipom's jaw hung aghast to see the berries' trajectories had all been interrupted as well.

"You must be careful, little one!" Approaching the stall with her hand raised, emanating the source of the psychic field, Abilene batted her eyes and smiled at Ambipom as she gently placed Aipom on his feet. Diligently, she used her careful powers to tug at his scarf and fix the way it fell around his neck. Aipom's grin stretched even wider than usual when he heard Abilene's soothing voice. "It's better to admit the task is too demanding than to be hurt with berries to blame!" The Gardevoir was concerned, but she allowed her tone to construe a calm lecture rather than an assertive stance. Ambipom chuckled and shook his head, his eyes shut tight and his tails slowly clapped together to sarcastically congratulate his son's less-than-gracious landing.

Abilene did not arrive alone, and the visit was not simple leisure. From behind her nimble frame came Feathers with her knapsack. Eagerly, Feathers skipped formalities and slovenly kicked an empty basket under the levitating berry mound. Abilene broke the mystical connection that held the berries in place with a smile to Ambipom; not a single edible missed the wicker basket. Aipom's eyes widened at the simple display of coordination that went unnoticed by the rescue team.

Feather's released a devious snicker, inadvertently gathering attention. She spoke with an absent-minded audible grimace, "Heh, yeah kid, one slip and it could be your last."

Ambipom's displeased tails slowed their clapping before halting all together in piercing silence. Aipom twisted his head and scratched at his scarf with the appendage on his tail. Abilene's lips parted with her eyes wide on the Sneasel, but no words came out. The Gardevoir rapidly shook her head in disapproval and with a pained, parted face mouthed a clear "nooooo!". Feathers looked to each Pokemon individually, hoping the next's expression would be less critical; none were. She cleared her throat awkwardly and threw in a wave of her claw to break concentration and pick up the basket.

"It's good to see you, Abilene!" The gentle father shook himself off and gleamed with showmanship. "You look well!"

"Oh, dear friend if only that were so!" Abilene's syllables molded Ambipom's visible concern. "It seems we have quite the road ahead of us for our latest client, and I'm afraid this visit wasn't simply to make idle chat."

Ambipom's tails sprung about excitedly and his ever-present smile grew. Sneasel took a knee, sorting through the wicker basket of berries stealthful and observant. Aipom raised a simian paw to his chin and slanted his view of her, spying on her every move. "Oh, come now, Abilene! Forcing us to actually make a sale! Hoho!" Ambipom's jolly laugh beamed jubilation through Abilene's heart. Aipom followed suit, giggling and hopping from the dirt street to the polished wood countertop made from half a log split down the center. "So" Ambipom continued, slyly leaning across the counter, one elbow cocked. His son mimicked his pose. "What'll it be today?"

Without so much as time for Abilene to inhale the question, Feathers' weighted knapsack crashed down between the two. With a glass-like twinkle, brilliant gems poured out, spilling a dazzling kaleidoscopic reflection onto the cedar table. Ambipom simply gasped, his tails twitching and straightening out involuntarily.

"Happy to see me too now, ain't ya?" Feathers cockily snarled.

"W-why, Miss Feathers, always a pleasure!" Ambipom struggled to gain his verbal footing, wishing to cater to the Sneasel and her small fortune.

No time for nonsense, Feathers spoke directly. "I need every chople berry you got, sitrus too."

Abilene hid away her embarrassment and stood ready to interject. The shopkeep bent his tail to scratch the roof of his head as he spoke. "Chople are rare, you know? They come at a high price." Aipom had begun making faces at his reflection in the clean-cut stones.

"Whaddya think the gems are for?" Feathers flicked an ornate amethyst stone with her claw, making a distinct 'plink' sound. Abilene's eyes trained on the purple gem as if it were the eyes of a face she longed to witness. In it's alluring mirror she saw only Feathers.

"Erm- well, you certainly have enough value behind these stones to warrant the bundle of chople I have." Ambipom gulped, admittedly he was nuanced and rather fearful of the unpredictable Sneasel's temper.

"Not just the berries,'pom." Feathers nudged her head forward, motioning towards a shelf of knick-knacks behind the shopkeeper, who craned his neck to view the item in attention. "That TM there. It's 52, ain't it?" Aipom hurriedly hopped from his father's shoulder to the top shelf and retrieved the disc.

"Yep, yep! Five-Two! What move is that again, papa?" He somersaulted onto the counter, TM clutched firmly in his tail's grasp.

It was Abilene who answered, "Focus Blast… a powerful fighting-type special attack," She cocked her eye at the Sneasel, who stood smugly avoiding eye contact. "but you can't learn that move, Feathers."

"I, uh, didn't plan to." The Sneasel bit her lip with her left fang, picking at her claws for a moment before swallowing a profound breath. She slowly twisted to face Gardevoir. "It's for you. It's a powerful move and it'll help you a lot where we're going."

Tremendously taken aback, the Gardevoir's sylphlike arms rose to cover her heart. "F-feathers, this TM is worth thousands… I-" She wanted to refuse the notion, but her heart warmed at her partner's selfless act.

"It ain't just some gift, Abi. It's about your protection. It's about making sure you come out of this safely. That alone is worth-" her voice trailed off, as though she were seeking approval from somewhere beyond as she spoke. "Well it's worth this", her final words were a clear downgrade from her projected verbal course. Sneasel restlessly shuffled about, her eyes refusing to meet with the jovial gaze of her partner.

Abilene delicately took hold of the disc while the transaction was completed, using the glossy sheen as a mirror to smile to herself. Years had passed since the former princess had held anything of such substantial monetary value; and her heart couldn't race quickly enough to remind her of a time a gift had stirred her soul as emotionally.

"A powerful move indeed!" exclaimed the chimp-like shopkeeper as he raked the elaborate assortment of treasures together with wide swoops of his attenuated arms. His son, having gotten his enjoyment from the reflective stones, drew his child-like focus on a new sight. Several yards behind the team stood a foreign Pokemon; a child. Aipom rarely met new children, as it was never commonplace for travellers and adventurers to have youngsters along with them.

Under another day's sun, curious Snover would have wanted to befriend Aipom. Today's sun was different, it was scorching with purpose and drive with no time to delay. The fate of his friends and family rested upon his snow-bitten shoulders. Besides, he very much doubted that he would ever cross paths with Aipom again, as he would have no need to return to this backwater village once Feathers defeated the Hunter Weavile and restored peace to his home; their home. He couldn't stand to lose any more friends.

With their preparation concluded and their minds set on the course ahead, Feathers, Abilene and Snover all departed towards the glazed citrus-wood gate of Scarlet Borough. The sun had fully risen, like a lantern being held to light the team's way. As Feathers took her first steps under the arched gateway with Abilene and Snover trailing closely to her rear, the trio was halted by a projected shout from behind. Assembled for their departure, a small group of their neighbors had risen to see them off. Feathers sighed, not wishing to be kept any longer whilst Abilene made pleasantries with the Vaporeon innkeeper. Venomously, the Sneasel propped herself against the cedar fence post and crossed her lengthy arms, allowing Abilene to make conversation. If it had been their rank-and-file typical rescue job, Feathers would be dragging the Gardevoir by her dress away from the socialites by now. A hint of cynicism within her tugged at the notion that she should allow her Gardevoir to say her farewells.

Snover tugged at Feathers' spiteful claws and spoke. "Gee, how come they're all only saying goodbye to miss Abilene ya think?" Childlike awe choked at his voice, unaware of the verbal poison he spit towards his hero.

"Hmmph. Because Abi's always wastin' time talkin' to these folks." Sneasel snarled.

"Gosh," Snover added "I don't see it as wastin' time if you're makin' friends, you bet!" He paused as she didn't respond. Curiosity overcame the young Snover as he witnessed Feathers' pouting. "Miss Feathers?" He inquired, "Is Miss Abilene your only friend?"

Feathers scoffed, her eyes trailing off towards the gathering as Abilene embraced her associates with equal parts jollity and poise. "She's always been enough for me."

Snover nodded, not entirely understanding or mindful of the Sneasel's words. He simply watched as Abilene merrifully made graces with an ever-expanding group. "She can't be your only friend, Miss Feathers. Whadda 'bout Froslass?"

"It's been a very long time, kid." Eyes rolled back, Feathers tensed her eyelids, shutting them to focus and drain out the surrounding world. Snover didn't understand, but he sensed that he was becoming a nuisance and patiently kept to himself. The child reflected momentarily before being startled by a rustling that emerged from beneath the towering scarlet flowers. With this sound drew a figure more massive in appearance and mastery than Snover could comprehend.

"Still here?" A voice like raking leaves split Feathers' silence and she awakened to see Mayor Chesnaught with his hearty arms crossed before her, unintentionally mimicking her stance.

"We're on our way out now, Abi's just-"

"Just saying goodbye?" The mayor scoffed. "And you're allowing this to drag on? You?"

Feathers' impatience preceded her. She simply tapped her foot and grunted in response to the mayoral teasing.

"Mister Mayor, Sir! T-thank you again for your help, you bet!" Snover practically saluted the towering senior, bestowing proper respect that Chesnaught promptly declined from the child, returning his formality with a smile and a gravelly chuckle.

The Sneasel cocked her head and scratched at her excessively adorning feathers. "Chesnaught, you know each other?"

Chesnaught glanced to distant Abilene and repeated his hoarse laugh, adding "Perhaps the youngster came to me last night searching for a particular Sneasel residence. Once I figured out why on Earth he'd want to do that-" pleased with himself, he crossed his arms and delightfully snickered. "I showed him to your home."

Displeased, Feathers mulled "You showed a stranger where we live? What if it was a criminal?" Sneasel motioned her claws towards Snover, who's innocent demeanor slumped in timidity.

Coughing through his ancient laugh, the mayor shrugged and exhaled. "Are you a criminal, kid?"

Snover leapt from his bark-like skin. "N-no sir!"

Returning with a final shrug, Chesnaught's creaking voice bounded. "Well that's as believable a testimony as I could expect. Satisfied with that, Dark-Type?"

The dissidence in Chesnaught's voice was held highly in Feathers' icy heart. Running her red, blue and yellow feather through her claws one at a time, the dutifil task on her mind inhibited a smile. "I sure hope that ain't how you normally protect the town."

The mayor simply scoffed. Clandestine from her partner's wanderless gaze, Sneasel shifted her bag and scuffed the dirt with her feet- anxiously awaiting for the courage to arise within her to speak her mind to Chesnaught. The night prior, the two had shared a moment of platonic closeness, like father and daughter. In truth, Chesnaught was the only Pokemon in the village that Feathers didn't want to leave without a farewell. He sensed the unease in her awkward motions, but said nothing.

"Hey, uh, Chesnaught" Feathers began, once again shifting the weight of her expeditionary satchel. The rusted mayor cocked an eyebrow to signify his attention was held by her alone. The flustered Sneasel continued, "I ain't much for this kinda thing, but-" she gulped several choices of words down. "But I wanted to say goodbye."

"No need." Shaking his head, Chesnaught stroked his bearded fur and shrugged. "You'll be back from this job to cause trouble in my town before long."

Like both the tamer and the lion, Feathers internally fought to open her heart and let herself be heard. "No, Chesnaught, I- I don't think ya get it. This ain't like other jobs; you know that."

An ancient gear turned, oilless and rusted, inside Chesnaught as he spoke. "I know what I know. The stakes are high, sure, but you both are capable. You'll reach them."

Feathers simply nodded, her silence bore a sign of respect. Though her doubt pestered her like a buzzing insect, the mayor's reassurance provided enough comfort to relax her weary heart for the moment. Snover stayed hushed, but smiled beneath his pine-needled fur as Abilene approached the group seemingly satisfied with her farewells. Embracing the elderly mayor, Abilene excitedly exchanged her parting words with Chesnaught as Feathers contemplated and explored her own mind. Running through possible scenarios and hindrances, she blinked seldom and the voices near to her grew further and further away.

"Feathers?" Abilene's plucky voice pulled Sneasel from her meditative trance. "I asked if everything is in order for our departure?" Surely the Gardevoir must have understood the insurmountable obstacles the team faced ahead, but nevertheless she wore a wondrously comforting smile. Feathers shook herself loose of her contemplative chains and nodded towards their exit.

"Make sure to bring me back a souvenir, Dark-Type" chuckled Chesnaught, expanding his silted lungs.

"I shall make a priority of it!" Abilene's enlivened voice called as she waved farewell. Feathers made no such promise.

* * *

By way of cascading valleys of lush, sloping greenery they travelled. Clouds trickled above, free of conscious restraint to mold their amorphous shapes at gust's will. As Autumn drew nearer to it's annual conclusion, feral Starly migrated in a nye of overwhelming numbers. Abilene's wonderous pace slowed momentarily as she attempted to reach her empathetic senses to the heavens to feel the joy of flight the bird Pokemon felt high above. Snover, troubled by responsibility, tried to fend off his mind's natural pull towards pessimism by counting the Starly as their wingtips graced the sky's dew-filled evening.

The setting sun highlighted their objective, passing behind the crested spire of Starpeak Mountain in the western sky. Westward from their sleepy village, the ground rose up as if to touch the stars and birth the jagged summit they set out to reach; Feathers' former home of Starpeak Village. Eastward towards the Sparkling Sea lied the coastal province of the Faerielands, situating Scarlet Burough a roughly equidistant centerpoint between the two. The trio had been travelling since morning through the bare friendly fields and flower-ridden meadows that surrounded their home on all sides.

The young Snover shifted his bag from shoulder to shoulder as he struggled to maintain pace with the partners. Abilene had often distinguished the speed Feathers walked to correlate to her level of anxiety. Her current boisterous stride would leave Abilene and Snover in the dust if not for the Gardevoir's nagging reminders to slow herself. Her spacious steps spoke for the unspeaking mind of the Sneasel, who had remained mute hitherto their entire journey. Never speaking of her anxious mind, Abilene relied on her own keen emotional thinking to decipher that her partner experienced a sense of nervousness that she hadn't verbally attested to.

As night reared it's shrouded mystery over the horizon, Abilene managed to convince her wily Sneasel to settle down for the night and continue their trek come dawn. The usual pair stretched out woolen mats from Snover's bag and all together gathered around a dry, contained bonfire. The smoke filled their air, silencing the three in contemplative thought. Abilene would often combat the noiseless air to comfort Snover, whether it be through small talk or about useful information pertaining to their upcoming efforts. She could sense his nerves ease at the sound of her voice. Feathers remained silent, letting the fire's smoke cloud her thoughts from her partners' chatting voices.

One by one, they laid their heads to rest. Snover was the first to fall asleep as Abilene recounted tales of her splendorous youth as a princess to appease his aching heart. She snuffed the fire with her air-tight psychic field and gazed towards Sneasel, who's variegated ear feathers caught glimmer of the bright nightly moon. Feathers had her back turned to the group and the extinguished fire hardly provoked her interest enough to turn. The Sneasel's ardent gaze towards the silhouetted mountaintops broke only when Abilene sat beside her on a freshly fallen oak log.

"Feathers," Abilene's soothing voice struck a harpsichord-like melody. "Since the last sundown, I have learned far more about you than ever before." Sneasel visibly winced, ashamed that her secrets were spilled from the mouth of a stranger and not herself. Mental walls stood firm, vastly overshadowing Feathers' ability to speak her mind to her partner. In truth, she hadn't felt the need to keep her past a secret from Abilene; she only felt it was too burdensome to share. "I'd like to think I have earned this knowledge of your past. Before meeting Snover, it was far too difficult to visualize a time where you existed before me." Abilene nervously stroked the malleable bark of the oak log seat. "And now we seek to return to your home, and atop Starpeak Mountain, no less! How you could withhold the wonders of that region is beyond my comprehension! Why, you only ever described your home as 'someplace cold'. Truly an understatement!"

"It is cold…" Feathers moped, defensively. Sneasel knew she hadn't a valid excuse for keeping so much from Abilene, only that the concept of revealing her past was incomprehensible to her.

The gentle Gardevoir let a faltering smile escape from her heart to grasp her countenance. "I suppose your honesty never wavered."

Feathers tried to envision her home on the summit of the blackened arrowhead that carved at the night sky. The misery associated with her past could all melt away for moments such as these with her dear friend. "I'm sorry, Abi." Sneasel didn't remove her eyes from the snow-bitten distant mountain as she spoke. "I promise that when this is all over, there ain't gonna be a single thing you don't know about me."

"My patience has served me this long, but eagerness grows within me about one notion in particular." Gardevoir's head tilted on it's attenuated frame, her slender neck twisting to bring her eyes to meet with Sneasel's, who cocked her brow in a questioning fashion. "The Hunter Weavile." As the words departed from Abilene's lips, Feathers' demeanor shifted and stirred awkwardly. "Snover seems to think you are the answer to the downtrodden and oppressed who suffer under his tyrannical rule, but he failed to deliver an explanation. Feathers, what is your relation to this mad king?"

Sneasel's skin leapt from her body and she shuddered, her pupils dilating and her vision blurring from nausea. Some unspoken truth jabbed Feathers' frozen heart like an icepick. "Well" she gulped, "when everyone knelt to him; I stood. I walked free. That monster fears one thing; freedom. I am free." She bit her lip, hidden from her teammate's view. She silently hoped that her answer would satisfy Abilene's inquisitive personality.

"You must know I have hundreds- no, thousands of questions for you." Abilene warmly suggested.

"Geez, lets save 'em. I'm exhausted." Without a heart's chance to beat, Sneasel tipped over to lie on her side, plucking the excessive adorning feathers from her ear. Physically she was in perfect condition to continue on awake. Her psyche was worn and the true source of her fatigue. The night's still air was gently caressed by the beating of Bug-Type wings in the wilds' trees. Leaves swayed before snapping from their perches, journeying through the wintery howl of late autumn.

Abilene's disregarding silence shook Feathers as she struggled not to shuffle. Wind howls grew, kicking the brush to whistle a dew-kissed tune that sat uneasily in Sneasel's mind. Giving in, she shifted her weight, turning her head to catch a simple peek at her soundless companion. To the Ice-Type's utter astonishment, the Gardevoir's lissome figure had vanished. Gasping, she threw her claws into the dirt and pushed herself upwards, jolting her head up quickly enough to feel her woeful mind toss around in her skull. Abilene was missing from her mat and the greater campgrounds, prompting a cold chill to sweep Feathers' forehead.

 _She was right here not even a minute ago! Where'd she go!? I didn't hear her stand up, I didn't hear a thing!_

A world of possibilities flooded Feathers' immediate thoughts, all of which cemented her to the ground with dread. She stood and frantically circled the camp twice before paying realization to Snover, who had seemingly vanished as well.

 _Kidnapped? No, I'd hear 'em. Teleportation? Abi hasn't been able to do that since she was little. Can Snover teleport? Wait, of course not, Feathers, use your head!_

Every confrontational presumption imaginable bursted through her panicked mind, trickling fear down her squat spine. As though she could fight the air in which her partners disappeared into, she raised her claws and began shouting their names.

"Abi!"

"Abi! Abi! Abi!" a scowling echo returned, barren of emotion and deep with scornful resentment.

"Abi!" she cried out once more while spinning her fighting stance 180-degrees to face the source of her echoed howl. No voice returned Feathers' latest pleas. Only a sinister hiss shot through her ears. Similar to an arrow on a string, the proverbial hissing shot through her body before being retrieved with a violent audible tug. The sounds had no discernible source, and Feathers prepared her heightened senses to combat threats from any angle, honing her claws close to her flustered cheeks. She felt the presence of hundreds surrounding her, but saw nobody.

Blackened mist spewed from the mouths of augmenting trees. The world surrounding Feathers shifted in caliginous despair as her heart ached with uncertainty surrounding the fate of her partner. Clouds of shadowy fog, too dark for even Sneasel's night-vision to pierce, billowed forth and overtook the landscape until Feathers was the sole figure entirely encompassed in a ring of pure darkness. Oddly, Sneasel felt the strength of hundreds of gazing eyes leave her, weighted anticipation fleeing through her feet. Mercilessly, one piercing stare invaded her mind in flash images. Deeply penetrating eyes, glowing with a bloody hue of instability; the notorious sight felt heavy with a familiar disquietude. Basked in a crimson light, Feathers trepidatiously swivelled in place to behold the source, readying her sharpened claws to attack.

Awaiting her motion, two devilish eyes beamed through the darkness. Demonic lucency emanated from the bloodshot eyes, enveloping Feathers in a red hue. Sneasel grunted, her knees quaking. Raising her clawed grip to protect her vision from the glaring intensity, she slowly fell to accept the sight she beheld. The slanted eyes narrowed from within the fog, focusing their disembodied gaze at a height slightly higher than Feathers'. The wicked blaze in the lone eyes curbed Sneasel's preemptive movements, forcing her to remain still against her will. Exasperatedly, she slashed at the air with her claws, shouting to build fear in her unflinching opponent. Hatred and dejection mulled through her paralyzed heart, she stayed unblinking, gasping to breathe.

 _Its him. He took Abilene._

Heinous sounds, indescribable in origin, unwelcomingly caressed her strained ears as though they were a prelude to the odious voice which spoke next. A grisly sound akin to dragged steel, the omnipotent snarl shook the valley with a single command aimed to quench the rebellious flame alit in Feathers' heart.

"Kneel."

Flaring her claws, she let forth an assaulting bellow to shatter the intensity of the familiarly vile voice. When the insane eyes didn't falter or flinch, she coughed, feeling the flame grow further within herself. "No. Never to you."

The valley forced a deafening silence. The bloodshot eyes acted like gateways into a deranged soul. Feathers wheezed, struggling to inhale anything aside from blackened smoke.

"You will" leaked the devilish tone.

Sneasel's fiery tongue set to dart back, but her lungs were overtaken by the mysterious fog, sending her into a frenzied coughing fit while the unhinged voice collected itself.

"Your freedom is an illusion" it continued, growling through a saliva-filled maw. "Your body may be free of my control. But your mind… your mind belongs to me."

Cued by insufferable pain in her lungs, Feathers found the darkened world around her growing even dimmer. With one final exasperated bout, she broke free of her unseen bondage and thrusted her mighty claws in the direction of the eyes. Her vision failed, immersed in the leaden mist, Feathers saw nothing. Her eyelids snapped shut, her power escaping her the second she felt the surprise of contact.

Having struck an indiscernible mass with her charged attack, Sneasel's strength, breathe and energy flowed back to her body miraculously. Rage-filled eyes shot open from behind their icy curtains to reveal a contradictory plane of reality that was free of the thick smog, the paralyzing stare and the bloodsoaked lighting. Feathers had awoken, but she was not free of assailants. The hulking mass she had struck with Foul Play tumbled over her, a pale yellow homunculus shattered the night with it's pained cry.

"Drow-!"

Heaving her lightly frosted body upwards, Sneasel twisted in the air, flailing her attacks wildly in her second-wind of reality. Landing upright, Feathers dug her clawed feet into the dirt to ground her fighting stance. The familiar forest beats of flapping bug-type wings and gentle autumnal gusts reinstated her in the material world. Her deep-cyan fur was coated in a thin familiar frost, the purpose of which was to glaze a Sneasel's body with a slippery outer layer to prevent bug-types, (which they were susceptible to) from crawling on the creatures in the wild. While Feathers slept every night, her fur's natural defense would kick in. This overlay of dew indicated she had fallen asleep some time ago. Finding comfort in her newfound reality, Sneasel leapt forward to strike her assaulter again, knocking it back onto it's tubby rear-end.

"Feral Drowzee!" cried the comforting angelic voice to Feather's back.

 _Abilene. She's safe. It was all a dream. Can't let my guard down! She could be hurt!_

"Dream-eaters from the looks of them!" Abilene deciphered. Her calls nearly fell on deaf ears as Feathers had begun wailing on a second defenseless Drowzee, knocking the elephantal creature to the dirt, kicking up quite a dust storm in the purple incandescent night. Providing more sideline chatter, Abilene draped herself over the torpid Snover child. "They create nightmares using their subject's deepest fears, then feed off of the sorrow it creates!"

Battering the third and final Drowzee, Feathers unleashed a barrage of Icicle Crash accompanied by a fierce roar. Sneasel had become the aggressor as the three feral Pokemon waddled vehemently into the brush, desperate to outrun Feathers' frenzied blows. Abilene embraced Snover, who's stubby arms slipped around to cradle the Gardevoir's back for protection. As her attacks eased up, Feathers gasped and sucked in air as though she were previously submerged in water. Sneasel stumbled, leaning her fatigued petite frame against a nearby tree. With monotonous breathes, she witnessed the slowest of the dream-eaters darting into the blackened brush where no moonlight dared to tread. One elongated exhale would birth a strand of black fog from the Sneasel's nostrils, emptying her mind of the hallucinogenic toxin for good. The vile mist dissipated into the night sky, but a stench similar to bubbling tar remained present, imbedded in her nose.

Before she could find a rhythm to her breathing, Sneasel found herself accompanied by Abilene's apprehensive touch. "Feathers, are you injured?" she inquired, mercifully caressing the Sneasel's pint-sized shoulder with the gentle touch of a Butterfree's wing.

"No" Sneasel hacked. "Are you?"

"No, Snover and I are without harm."

Feathers said nothing, but her body slumped in a newly relaxed state, letting her guard down one final time. She nodded, eyeing Snover and nodding to acknowledge the youth's safety.

"Shouldn't've let me fall asleep, Abi… I should've kept watch." Feathers' stubborn exterior dropped steadily with her melted icy defenses. She struggled to nuzzle herself away from Abilene's loving gesture and against the bristly bark, preferring to limit herself from simple pleasures after a hostile situation.

"That is hardly my fault. You need to rest, our journey requires nourished minds if we are to succeed." Abilene's tone took staunch defense, but not vividly enough to upset her Sneasel. She understood Feathers' fear of losing any battle. No matter how unimportant or insignificant, she witnessed Feathers give every assault her entire body's effort.

"Our journey requires me to keep watch. You're the brains here, Abi… Get to sleep." Sneasel's short response was becoming of the Dark-Type, who had little to offer in way of words. Her mind was a cascading river under a winter's curse; the free-flowing and cascading water failed to break through the layer of sleet and hardened ice.

Abilene knew it was futile to argue her point further, as Feathers would hear nothing of it. The former princess would, however, move her sleeping mat to the foot of the extended roots Sneasel kept watch from. Closeness comforted them both.


	7. Mongrels

**VI**

 **Mongrels**

* * *

In the cherry-blossom sky, the full moon had risen to it's astral perch. Milky light fell to the earth below, bathing the world in an iridescent wax-colored hue. Miles of uncharted separation rose between the rescue team and their home, which painted the minds of the three travellers in a serene maroon ocean. In stark contrast to the flowers and greenery of Scarlet Burough, the third day of their journey met the partners with a crevice of insurmountable terrain. An unattended bridge had collapsed, forcing the adamant Sneasel to guide her companions through unknown cliffspace. Dirt and musk flowed through the air like an unseen river, coating Snover's fur with a thin layer of earth. Complimentary to the sunset, the walls of earth that made up the canyon reflected brilliant oranges and yellows. The parched mesa, with it's decaying foliage, made up the final trek before the ascent of Starpeak Mountain began, looming closer and grander in size.

Shimmying along the ever-shrinking footholds, Feathers sent her claws crashing into the packed clay walls to cement her hold on the world. Her frost-tipped nails cooled in the lifelessly chilled air that sat like a blanket of dead moss hovering over the cola colored landscape. As ice-types did, her mobility and general steadfastness improved in lower temperatures; and as the royal mountain loomed deftly overhead and elevations slowly rose, Feathers' instincts guided her.

With far less precision, Snover hugged the canyon walls inches from Feathers' tail. With no claws or means to ingrain himself to the loose gravel, the child nervously sputtered and shook as he shifted his weight along the most narrow passage they had encountered. Like a seasoned rock climber, Feathers jabbed and pulled her body horizontally across the ledge with just inches of footing. Snover struggled to stow his fear as the footing grew shorter and shorter. He whimpered as loose dirt was kicked out from below his wooded paws.

"M-miss Feathers, you bet there's no other way around?"

"Not a quick one. Tha' bridge was our best bet. You sure it wasn't snapped when you came through here to find me?" Feathers' slowed her advancements, realizing her heightened speed would only slow their pace if she had to trek backwards to encourage Snover further.

"P-positive! I came runnin' across it just the other day, you bet!" Distracted by conversation, the young Pokemon continued to leisurely caress the clay walls and shift his weight along the narrow path.

"You sure it was the same one?" Feathers' said with a hiss in her voice as she took the final leap needed to reach stable ground.

"I, uh, I reckon so."

She blinked, stunned. "You reckon so? You reckon the bridge you crossed was the same one that's now snapped in two. You reckon, or you know?"

Snover shook more, the final leap reflecting in his eyes full of peril. Feathers' tone stirred his nerves and shelved his confidence. "W-well I didn't stop. I just kept runnin' when I got to it! There was lots o' howling and such, you bet! I was mighty scared, miss!" He surveyed the bound before him and gulped. "K-kinda like I am now, you bet!"

The Sneasel sighed and knelt her body parallel to the canyon's widening walls. Her arms opened as if to ready for an embrace and her knapsack met limp with the ground. "I'll catch ya."

"M-miss, I don't know."

"You don't have to know. Trust me to catch ya like I trust you 'bout the bridge." The first gust of wind her fur had felt in hours ran it's ethereal fingers through Sneasel's colored adorning feathers.

"B-but miss, I'm not so sure about the bridge bein' the same and all." The child's words barely escaped his quaking lips.

"That's alright," Feathers' smirked. "I'm not so sure I'm gonna catch ya."

Snover's unseen mouth parted with a disillusioned moan. "Miss Feathers, please! A-are you gonna catch me?"

Sneasel's sharp features softened, unnoticeable to the untrained eye. "You bet."

With a drawn out gulp, the young Snover broke his rooted grasp on the soot-lined clod, bounding through the air as though his chubby body were far more aerodynamic than it was in truth. Uncertainty drowned the child in fear as he flailed his barked arms, desperate to feel contact with the earth. When finally his stumpy paws hit land, the craggy edges of infrequently trodden clay loosened and shifted. As Snover struggled to balance, a crack of earthly thunder emanated from below his feet and the ledge gave way to gravity below.

Before his mind could succumb to the realization and sooner than he could plummet more than a few inches, he felt a cold paw clasp onto his own and with a sudden force, yank his limp body skyward. Stable ground found the child and a cloudy gust of earth tones subsided. Moments of exasperated breathing counted the seconds before the sound of the broken rocks striking ground pounded their ears, emphasizing the length of the fall.

Snover's head spun in it's bony shell for a moment before trembling to his feet. He hadn't noticed Feathers had already silently departed several yards ahead. Allowing his limbs to bounce and shift at his sides, Snover trotted along the cliffside to catch up, careful to avoid the rock-laden fringe. Following closely to her rear, the child would be repeatedly struck by Feathers' shifting tails. He gulped with heavy sincerity and asked "D-do you really trust me, Miss?"

She scoffed and tilted her head to better project her voice through moonlit stiffness. "Should I?"

Unsure of himself and intimidated by the hasty Sneasel's words, Snover remained too flabbergasted to respond for a few moments. "I'd sure like you to" he groaned.

"Froslass trusts you, yeah?" Feathers conjected.

"I, uh…" Snover itched at his throat "I suppose so."

Sneasel turned her head back towards the path ahead and muffled, replied "then there ya go."

The cliff face reflected the moon's gentle light as it craned it's unseen neck into the sky. Full and luminous, the moon's light helped Snover shave the dust from his fur. As though worshipping the heavenly body, feral howls and cries could be heard echoing loudly throughout the canyon. Chills shivered down Snover's spine at the bloodcurdling sound that he imagined extended from jagged teeth. In front of him, Feathers held her satchel close. Her ears twitched rhythmically and she halted, her nose pointed towards the star-dotted abyss above. Snover collided in back of her, nudging her elven body slightly. A decedent ringing tickled her ears and she drowned out all sound around her, including Snover's inquisitive remarks. This inner-ear sensation felt as though someone had taken a warm rag to the back of Sneasel's head. The voice within her thoughts morphed into one that was not her own.

"Feathers? I trust you can hear me?" The voice belonged to Abilene, several hundred yards ahead of them and completely masked by the darkness and serpentine cliffside pass. Empathic by nature, Abilene was able to communicate telepathically with those she grew a close emotional bond with. It was a one-way channel, as a being without psychic abilities such as Feathers would be unable to respond through thought alone. Opening a two-way psychic channel through thought transference required nothing short of a single soul in two bodies, or two souls becoming one; the concept was unfathomable even to a mystical empath such as Abilene. "The road ahead becomes less treacherous, but remain wary and cautious; I do not believe us to be alone" her harmonic voice tickled behind Feathers' squinted brow.

 _Yeah, no kiddin', ya think I'm the one howling at the moon, Abi? Sheesh._ Feathers was grateful that her snark remained quarantined in her own mind; but more so that her genuine concern was well protected. _Stay safe. Please._

"What's the matter, Miss Feathers?" Snover piped up.

"Shh! Quiet kid, Abi's in my head." Feathers ungratuitously chimed in response.

Bewildered, the child scratched behind his own head. "W-well, how'd she get in there?"

The pair continued to walk in silence. Feathers crept adagio while awaiting more messages from Abilene. When none came, she relinquished her careful demeanor and trudged on without concern for Snover, who's dwarf legs peddled behind.

"Abi said there's danger ahead." Feathers barked. "Pick up the pace, we gotta catch up to her."

Perplexed, Snover trotted along. "G-gosh? Did she say that? You bet I sure didn't hear her."

Sneasel recounted her many bouts by Abilene's side as a rescue team and her pace quickened. Howling intensified the night air and Snover felt an uneasy familiarity. At a stride quicker than jogging, Feathers began to outpace Snover, her paws bounding across the gravelly surface with an urgent striking tone.

"Miss Feathers! Wait for me!" Snover's small bag cavorted against his fur as he sprinted, his timber arms flailing behind.

With clouded judgement, Feathers leapt and bounded as she ran, her satchel being lifted gently by the wind. It was though another fog had rolled in, similar to her nightmare from the nights prior. Sneasel shook herself from this trance long enough to feel a wince in her nerves and hear a faded shout from behind. "Miss Feathers!"

Her paws found loosely trodden gravel with each hop until suddenly, they didn't. Collapsing under gravity's forceful pull, Feather's slid out as earth crumbled below her. Shades of dimly lit reds and oranges of the clay walls flashed before her as her instincts gnawed through. She flung her claws into the face of the ledge she stood atop moments prior. She had trampled out an avalanche beneath her paws and was now, as she saw it, suspended over a slanted drop into a void of unlit rock. Her icy claws began to slip from their carved homes; and as she fervently tried to scale upwards she was met with loose gravel and an unforgiving slope. Before plummeting any further, she leapt with a hoarse groan, clutching a parched brown vine that held her weight sturdy.

Waddling to the lip of the cliff, Snover braced to look over the edge and not see the Sneasel. He called out to her, crawling on his hands to timidly peer downwards. Exasperated and relieved, he groaned in contentment when he saw Feathers dangling, shaken, but otherwise safely over the crevice.

"M-miss Feathers!" he exclaimed. "I thought you were a goner, you bet!"

"Ugh, kid" Feathers hoarsely replied, swinging her legs to maintain her momentum. "Kid, can you reach me?"

Lying flat on his belly, Snover stretched his bark-like arms as far down as he could. Several feet short of reaching Feathers, he grumbled and sighed. "No, miss."

Frustrated, Feathers let loose a flustered grunt. The chalky vine that suspended her nudged loose and groaned as if in response, stretching itself thin. Thinking on her feet, Sneasel cried out "your bag! Hand it down!"

Snover wrestled with his satchel without standing, attempting to pry it over his bushy head. With both paws securely gripping the strap, the child lowered the canvas bag, components and all, to close the distance between himself and his fellow Ice-Type. "D-do you reckon I can lift you, Miss?"

Feathers groaned, stretching her clawed arm as far as she could to reach the bag. "How heavy d'ya think I am, kid?!" She came just within a foot of it at her furthest reach, yet still remained too far to safely grasp it. Suspension caused knots of anxiety to build in her knees as she swung percuriously above the drop.

"N-not heavy, you bet! I uh-" he stuttered nervously. His mama always taught him to be polite to ladies; but Feathers didn't strike him as a lady. "Y-you don't look heavy, I just, uh, I'm real weak you bet, and uh-"

"Save it, I'm gonna have to jump." The decaying foliage was ripping from the canyon walls and crumbling under her grasp. It would unlikely support her weight much longer. As Snover braced and clenched his muscles with all his might, Feathers swung, gaining momentum to propel herself upwards. The roots were visible now, dead and dried up as they were yanked from their burrows beneath the canyon's exterior.

"M-miss Feathers, you've gotta hurry!" Snover frantically called, spotting the vine's inevitable snap.

 _Abi, I dunno if you can hear me, but if I don't make this jump, abandon the mission, take Snover somewhere safe, and hide. Don't go to Starpeak without me no matter what! I-_

Snap! Earthly tones filled the air as though a twister had send dust throughout the region. Feathers' claws flung wildly, missing their mark and sinking her heart. She could see nothing through the dirt flung into her eyes by the splintered root, and could feel nothing but the chilled caress of fear that trickled through the still air and up her spine. Her body found itself alone in the sky.

 _I'm sorry I wasn't enough._

Contact pulsed through her mind and she instinctively snapped her paws shut, gripping ahold of the fabric knapsack after all. Her eyes stung and half parted to reveal Snover's courageous figure looming overhead. The child, suspended by his own ingrained roots, stood perpendicular to the cliff wall, completely defying gravity to reach Feathers before she plummeted. There were no nutrients to be absorbed by Snover's move Ingrain, but he had geniusly anchored himself to the clay walls. Feathers blinked, partly to shed her eyes of the chalky musk; partly in astonishment of Snover's quick thinking.

"H-hold on, Miss Feathers, I've got ya, you bet!" Snover heaved with all his might, but failed to lift the Sneasel with his arm strength alone. A foreboding sense of urgency overcame the boy, but not from the dire situation. An unknown factor was at play and about to come forth.

Breeze caressed between her claws as she hung, pendulous in slight motion. The wind carried with it an ethereal balm, an unseen soothing gesture that startled Feathers at it's empowering premonition. It was though the world below her and the world above were one, that gravity's farce would provide no danger to her. A gentle luminosity accompanied the wind, and for a moment's time, all sound escaped her. No instinct nor fear gnawed through her heart, and Feathers hung still, lifelessly radiant in a sudden glow.

"M-miss..?" Snover called to her, bearing down on his lidded eyes, the ethereal glow from Feathers' body overtaking his vision. "W-what's happening? What is this?"

She provided no response as her mind disconnected from it's perch. Her thoughts nothing but echoes of hollowed memories, she felt nothing. Distant from her physical self, unintelligible darkness swept her vision from the effervescent radiance surrounding her. A final, booming chant was all she knew.

"Your freedom is an illusion."

Snap. Her scarlet eyes blasted open, the same as they were before. Howling like a feral cat, she swatted control back to her body, lost in the dazzling haze. The canvas bag still in her grip, she regained awareness. "Kid!"

"M-miss Feathers I didn't do nothing, you bet! W-what is all this?" he chirped back at her.

Unable to provide an answer, Sneasel saw nothing through the gleam that encompassed her body until, in dismay, she did. Above her, in the direction of Snover she saw Him. Haunting eyes of the devilish being shot through her and the voice returned, booming in repetition like a drum.

"Your mind belongs to me. Your mind belongs to me. Your mind belongs to me."

Her mouth hung agape in agony, astonishingly, so did his. Sneasel twisted her head away, Weavile followed suit. Without a second of freedom, Feathers looked, antagonizing into the devil's eyes. She saw only her own. "No", she and the Weavile uttered. "It's not you", they whimpered. "That's me."

Snap.

* * *

Fleet-footed and filled with disquietude, Abilene leapt her attenuated frame through cavernous rock. Familiar with the terrain she tread in the opposite direction only moments ago, she hastened her backtrack, sliding along the canyon walls with ease. The air was dry and still, as lifeless as the withered brown fauna that jutted from the clay path. Piercing the air like needles through felt, howls and sniveling caterwauls shot up into the moonlight. The Gardevoir's dress-like robes fluttered about behind her, gaining speed as she approached a blurry white figure, slumped back against the parched dirt walls.

Squinting, she called to him. "Snover! Snover!" Nearly stumbling down a newly collapsed gap from her previous path, she hovered gracefully in earnest to the child's side. He sulked alone. Gardevoir knelt to his height, placing a unusually shaken hand on his dusted shoulder. "Snover, thank goodness. I sensed panic and feared for the worst." In the darkness, her vision adjusted, noticing the adolescent's bag strewn before him, lying haphazardly on the rocky platform. Adjusting her gaze then to the outcropping of collapsed land, she spoke, almost a whimper. "Where is Feathers?"

Snover winced, mute. He clutched an unseen object tightly between his paws, pressed to his chest under the pine-needles of his fur. Dropping the item, he flung his arms around Abilene's waist, decompressing one lone sob.

"Where is Feathers?" she enunciated once more, trying to maintain her calm exterior for the sake of the child.

Snover wept into her thin torso, burying his face below her red abdominal fin. "I'm s-sorry, Miss Abilene… I'm sorry, you bet, I'm-"

"Snover please, you've done nothing wrong. I ask again, where is Feathers?"

The young Ice-Type gathered himself, fighting his frozen tears back while shivering in his weakened knees. Hiding his face deeper, he mewled; "She's g-gone, miss."

Falling limp, her world shattered. Abilene muttered, her pleasantries and harpsichord voice absent. "What do you mean gone? Gone where?"

He sniveled. "M-miss Feathers… she fell. S-she grabbed onto my bag here b-but…" Snover's voice trailed off, his words indistinguishable from his sobs. Abilene released the child from her embrace, summoning her courage and swallowing her anguish.

"-but what, Snover? Please, continue, what happened to Feathers?"

Snover gulped, presumably swallowing a wad of anxiety. "T-there was this light, you bet. I-I couldn't see nothin'. Miss Feathers was right there holdin' onto my bag when it started, t-then… she wasn't, and the light stopped before I watched her f-…" he sniffled, choked up, "-fall."

Thinking on her feet, Abilene summoned the scattered entrails of Snover's bag to her. The bag was empty and all that was held within it were a few berries and the item clutched under Snover's fur when she arrived moments ago. With short, panicked breathes, she lifted the mysterious object, illuminating it in a pink hue. The glossy exterior reflected her dim light as it flickered, as if from an unseen candle. Obsidian radiance held importance in her recent memory, recalling the night she and Feathers first met Snover. "This…" Abilene failed to find a word worthy of describing the dark jagged item, which bore inscriptions she quickly failed to decipher. "You brought this from your home, from Feathers' home. You said it would make her stronger." The Gardevoir was puzzled, chasing a connection she couldn't make in her agitated state. "This was in your bag when she hung by it?" Snover nodded. Scowling at the unknown object, Abilene's disgruntled countenance shifted its focus to the child. "Snover? What is this?"

"I-It's a sacred weapon from back home, you bet." He sniffled, his mind trailing elsewhere. "It's called a Razor Claw."

* * *

Fluttering out in all directions, Abilene's ribbon-like features wavered and flailed about in her descent. Tossing formalities aside and adopting Feathers' methods of instinct over strategy, the Gardevoir descended into the crevice cloaked in her own luminous pink hue. As if suspended by an invisible string, Snover fluttered down behind her, kicking his legs nervously as he was safely guided down the same crevice where he witnessed Feathers' fateful plummet. As a rule of thumb, Abilene could barely lift more weight with her psychic abilities than she could with her physical being. Holding herself and Snover afloat in the soot-drenched air was strenuous. Nevertheless, the pair sunk deeper and deeper in search of their friend.

After submerging themselves below the dark, dust-clouded layer of air that obscured their view of the canyon floor, Snover's heart rose into his throat. The landscape became increasingly craggy, unforgiving stalagmites loomed into view. He winced, holding his arms to his chest and shivering. For a moment, he daydreamed of home. His quiet, tranquil life with his parents like any other child. He longed to return home; knowing the only reason he wasn't there now is because it simply no longer existed. The adolescent felt a knot of contrition twist a dagger in his gut; he felt responsible.

Abilene surveyed every inch of terrain below, desperately searching for her partner. Annulling her anxiety with Calm Mind, Gardevoir repeated the brain-numbing chill over and over. With a serene exhale, the thin tips of her attenuated legs touched with the callous rock slate floor. Abilene sighed, with no sign of Feathers thus far, she was reassured that perhaps her trickster had found a way to cheat death like always.

The land below was equally as barren as above, with one earthly exception. An oasis of crystal reflective water hidden below the soot-lined clay walls of the parched surface. Sparse greenery surrounded the pool and not a shrub of living foliage existed beyond a few feet of the spring's shallow face. Jutting proudly above the water, a jagged outcrop hung just below the moon's setting view.

Natural curiosity brought the pair close to the water's edge.

"N-no Feathers." Snover announced, unsure of how this sight found him. "W-which means she didn't fall here, you bet?"

Abilene let a timid smile break loose before retracting it immediately, lowering her hopeful demeanor. "Or she may have been moved." She recalled the howling in it's guttural and fear-striking nature. As though her memory served to her a premonition, the sound showed itself, booming and echoing off of the dry clay walls of the canyon's lower extremity.

"Eeyikes! T-that sounded close!" Snover shivered in anguish, nuzzling his stubby body behind the Gardevoir. Abilene closed her eyes and extended her empathic sight, observing the emotional terrain all around the pair of rescuers. Caressing her mind with the feelings of others', she felt Snover's fear, and in front of her growing nearer and nearer, she felt hunger and shallow-minded desperation. The child shattered her concentration, bellowing "Look!".

A silhouetted figure stood atop the earthly outcropping, black as night with their back to the moon. Craning her neck to look up, Abilene could only deduce that the figure was not Feathers. Quadrupedal and with a flowing mane that jostled and flowed with their movement, the dark-lit figure craned their neck towards the sky, starting a chain of howls that extended behind them. Abilene took Snover's cloven paw. The pair braced as the figure leapt downward, extending their paws to come crashing down in the shallow oasis close enough to kick droplets into the air. The water cascaded onto Abilene's unflinching face as she protected Snover. In this new moonlit setting, the Gardevoir quickly identified the creature- a feral Mightyena.

Mightyena snarled, approaching with their head hung low, seemingly ready to pounce. Behind them, several Poochyena and Houndour slid on their paws down the dry, lifeless slope towards the pond. The wolfish pack begun to slowly surround the pair of rescuers. Snover shivered, too afraid to speak with the overwhelming sense of guilt crashing down on him like a boulder. Snarling and drooling, a selfish hunger rose in the feral mongrels as they crept around their prey. Despite her good-intentions, Abilene was beginning to feel rather hopeless. Knowing she couldn't possibly defend the child, she quickly threw up a barrier around them with Protect, chattering with anxiety as she was forced to give up on Calm Mind.

The sudden barrier threw Snover into panic. The child yelped, selecting one of his known moves at random; Mist. The vapors quickly dispersed, fading right through the Protect barrier and trickling through the valley with an ominous fog. Abilene spun her head in shock, quickly enough to see Snover's image grow faint against the vapors that filled the volumetric canyon walls. Thickening slowly, the fog whited-out the ferocious beasts that entrapped the pair. As their vision faded, the smaller mongrels looked toward their leader, who tilted their head curiously as they inhaled the soupy air. Blotting out their attackers completely from their vision, Abilene and Snover sat, daring not to speak for fear of ending the blissful ignorance of what lies just outside of their Protect bubble. The aurora-like shield mixed with the snowflakes and thick icy air of Snover's Mist, causing an iridescent wave to spiral through the thick white air. Then, stillness.

Nobody moved, nobody spoke. Huddled together closely in their soundless Protect shield, the pair caught their breath, panting from the adrenaline that left them exhausted in fear. There was perfect silence. One could believe they were truly alone in a heavenly void, resting amongst clouds; a powerful fantasy that swept Snover's anxiety aside momentarily. Abilene held her empathy to herself, too terrified to reach beyond the safety of their shield. All was still, giving her just enough time to wholeheartedly and tearfully miss her Sneasel. No sound was heard but the still night air carrying the distant chirps and nightly song of a Hoothoot on the surface. Everything was peaceful.

Precipitous fangs crashed into the Protect barrier, snarling and foaming, disembodied from their invisible owners who were wrapped in the fog. Snover fell on his rear, startled alongside Abilene who squealed and winced at the sight. Ferocious maws, one after another, stacked on top of each other to bite into their forcefield. Chomping and gnashing, drool and saliva trickled down from the shield, which flickered and sputtered, failing under the combined weight of the mongrels' attacks.

One by one, the hungry maws pushed past their barrier, inching closer and closer from all angles. Abilene stood over Snover, offering herself to protect the child. The Gardevoir's enraged Psychic flew from her mind in a final attempt to preserve the child who stood near. Striking her targets, it dealt no damage to the Dark types. Abilene looked upwards towards the sky in an instinctual moment of reflection. She thought of her family she had abandoned to pursue her own ambitions. She imagined them huddled together to mourn. Her sister Rei, the same child she had left over a year ago, snivelling in her chambers once more. She thought of her life had she stayed at home and remained a princess and a pawn; would that have somehow saved Snover from this terrible moment? She looked upwards and she thought of what was most important to her in life; what she held dearer than all of her journeys, all of the Pokemon she had helped, and all of her friends. She asked why they weren't together to meet their ends.

In answer, an object fluttered down without guidance and landed reposefully atop her shattering shield; a single, lone Bravairy feather.

One by one, glistening teeth and snarling hides shot backwards into the mist with a yelp; their cohorts too distracted to realize their diminishing numbers. The sound of distant yowling soon overcame the hungry growls of Abilene and Snover's attackers. Impossible to see through the soupy air, Abilene stood in astonishment as the mongrels' pack wore thin against her Protect shield. The Gardevoir was dazed, unflinching at the possibility that it was all an elaborate ruse, that the moment she dropped her Protect, her and the child would be jumped by the hoard. All anxiety, all uncertainty and panic left her at the sound that came next; familiar, like a record scratching, a raspy unseen voice cried out to her.

"Focus up!" Instinctively, Abilene trusted in the callout, throwing her willowy arms skywards without a moment's delay. She shifted what was left of her Protect, compiling it above her and Snover's heads. The weakened shield sputtered and blinked and in a moment of hopeful heroics, Abilene focused the move above the child she swore to protect, leaving herself vulnerable.

Within seconds of the shouting, a flurry of frozen air swept down through the Gardevoir's unprotected figure. The breeze did little to cast aside the layers upon layers of fog, but the gust thinned the air just enough for Abilene's still heart to stop as she was caught in the path of a cluster of hailing icicles. Clenching her muscles and focusing her move to protect Snover, who still grovelled in confusion beside her, she endured the barrage. Pounded by ice and sucking up debris, blind chaos enveloped the Gardevoir. Still, she kept her Protect placed firmly above Snover, shielding him from harm. Collapsing as she was ruthlessly pummelled by the crystallized icicles, Abilene fell numb.

Dust mixed with the dispersing mist, sending a peach colored fog throughout the valley as the area recovered from the sudden avalanche. Shards of shattered ice reflected the moon as they scattered the slowly growing visible landscape. The icicles had pierced through the fog, sending it awry in the move's wake. Again, following the bombardment, the valley grew silent.

Abilene groaned, her entire form covered from head-to-toe in dust and crystallized ice particles. She felt as though she were floating, her pain dulled by the comforting knowledge of the move that was used; Icicle Crash. Snover broke her from her insensate trance with a tug on her leg and a hoarse whisper.

"Look!"

Struggling to part her eyes, Abilene winced through the fading mist. There, several paces away, stood a figure that convulsed, growing and shrinking it's chest in exasperated breaths. The familiar silhouette bent down to scoop up the Bravairy feather and tucked it in front of their ear. The unconscious bodies of the mongrel pack scattered the landscape surrounding the triumphant figure; Sneasel.

"M-miss Feathers! Miss Feathers you're alive!" Snover galavanted, scuttling away from Abilene's distressed side and toward his resurrected friend.

Before his stumpy body could meet with the Sneasel's, she barked with authority. "Stop."

His hooves grinding to a halt, Snover tilted his head, brushing aside tears of relief as he looked up into her scarlet eyes.

"The Razor Claw. Get rid of it." Frustrated, she barged past his stout body, shattering his hopes for a joyous reunion. Feathers panted and pouted right up to Abilene. The Gardevoir let a faint smile trickle like spring water across her face. Feathers' scowl weakened and her scolding demeanor soured. Instead, she stood over the Gardevoir in contemplativeness. Abilene weakly grasped her Sneasel's paw; it was all she could reach. Bottling up her frustrations, Sneasel knelt and held her tongue. Feathers in turn, placed her claw on her partner's debilitated forehead in a foreign gesture that extended beyond her typical after-battle care. Instructing Snover to fetch her healing supplies, Feathers' typically icy claw grew warm brushing dust from Abilene's cheeks. Her claw rested there long after the dust had settled.


End file.
